Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Chapter 38 Two Of Hearts

  Across the twilit inn-yard, through the side door and into the common room, Amy breathlessly guided her two confused charges into her family home for what she would only describe as ‘a very special dinner’ at the inn. Molly the faithless light priestess and her mother were finding their first taste of freedom after a lifetime under the cruelest forms of slavery… deeply intoxicating.

  “Tonight we have the count and countess over and a few very special guests as well.” Amy whispered eagerly as they put on slippers in the foyer. “Some of it won’t make much sense at first… Just watch it happen and enjoy the show.”

  The trio emerged into a bustling, but not crowded dining hall, with seats for them at a long table, beside the king and queen of the goblins. Several of the ‘Garies’ were present as well, a veritable rogues’ gallery of men and… entities wanted by the light for terrible crimes and blasphemies. The dreaded Wheel of Fortune was dealing tarot cards to amuse the younger Wards, Gandree and Daisybelle at their table, amid laughter and cheerful banter.

  The Star, an elegant and beautiful murderer, brigand and pirate, dressed in skin tight red leather and ivory silk sat with Strength; a collection of gigantic slabs of muscle and bone heaped into a mockery of the human form. That one was wanted for dozens murdered light clerics… if not hundreds.

  Together, they chatted merrily with a blue wooden puppet creature, with a hideous spider creature dangling in the shadowy rafters above them. The spider being was most likely the much rumored but seldom seen Arachnean Tarot, the Hermit. That creature’s crimes were too many, morbid and awful to consider before dinner.

  When the host and hostess entered and began making the rounds, greeting their guests, Amy leaned closer and whispered to her two well dressed prisoners, sounding eager and excited. “The show is about to start.”

  At the head of the long table, a tall, muscular, unremarkable and middle aged Gary sat beside a woman of stunning, mature beauty. Her sun kissed, golden skin bore a scattering of freckles, which only further highlighted her bright green, limpid eyes.

  Golden curls tumbled in careless perfection to her shoulders, cropped off in a manner that was effortlessly functional and elegant at once, through some mystical power all her own. She wore the skirts and bodice of an affluent tradeswoman, embellished only slightly and in sensible, comfortable cloth and cut. Her green gaze roved over the gathering, as if she sensed trouble brewing and was unsure what kind.

  There was an energy in the air, an aura that seemed taut as a bowstring and ready to release. Many eyes sought out the beautiful woman seated next to the boring Gary that no one seemed to recognize or pay much mind to. His stunning companion drew a disproportionate measure of the room’s attention; far more than even her stunning figure and fine features would warrant.

  “That’s the Necromancer and his wife, lady Lianna Kines, countess of Arbor Home. She’s the lady of a domain near here… kinda like your hometown is near here. Keep an eye on them, especially her.”

  “Is there violence afoot? I’ll not expose my mother to danger…” She cut off in a soft yelp of pain, as a maternal hand gripped Molly’s ear in a familiar way.

  “Our new friends have proven trustworthy and more than hospitable, daughter. You should emulate them.” Sally’s harsh and cutting whisper carried no farther than she wished it to, which was not far at all. “I swear, you are behaving as if they are savages who might soil themselves at any moment!”

  For some reason, Amy giggled cruelly and shot a glance at her father, who was busy across the room, introducing several people to the beautiful woman and her dull companion.

  “The count and countess should arrive shortly, I suspect you will have much in common…” The Fool mumbled to the woman through a huge smile. His towering, redhaired wife was just as eager and excited, dancing in place as they made polite chitchat. A slight commotion near the door signaled the start of something… just something.

  A trio entered, two men and one woman, all well dressed in common garb and unremarkable, save for the startling level of hotness they inflicted on the gathering. The two men were striking in their own ways, one stood just around average height, lean, athletic and dark of hair and eyes. His handsome, chiseled face was all smooth planes and edges, around almond eyes that glanced over the gathering with quick wit and intelligence. Spiky black hair cropped short and neatly kept, tied it all together; this was a man of action, despite being as pretty as a lord’s pleasure boy.

  The other man was stocky, muscular and a bit short, with blonde hair and eyes, golden tanned skin and a smile of absolute bliss, punctuated by a pair of dimples that always made a certain portion of the ladies sigh. He walked with the easy grace and confidence of a man born to lead, while goggling at the eclectic partygoers with unabashed interest. “Count Liam… I didn’t know we were having a party!” Rolf Belen, heir to the duchy of Wheatford, enthused. “I’d have brought Ester; she’ll be cross when she finds out.”

  “It’s a pity neither she, nor your wife are present, my friend. Though, we did ride out expecting there to be more of a battle than a… whatever that was.” Rolf muttered as they put on slippers in the foyer. “What do you call such events, brother? Surely you have a… a name for such… things.”

  “It’s been a while, but we usually call that, ‘throwing a Gary’ when we feel the need to discuss these things.” The handsome lord shrugged and turned to his wife, Trelawny Belen-Kinnis, who outshone both men, the way the sun does the moons. “Though, we usually find it easier to just pretend nothing weird is going on. Right, love?”

  “Indeed, the less said about such things the better. That was a bit much, if I must say… but at least we haven't added any new celestial bodies to the firmament or toppled the social order.” She tapped a long, slender finger to her perfect, pink lips and sighed prettily… the way she did everything, all the time, prettily.

  Tawny was not tall, not quite; she made up for that minor imperfection by being slender, fit and graceful to an absurd degree. Her finishing move was a face so beautiful that she could and frequently did, bring a surprised gasp of pleasure from the unwary or easily startled at first meetings.

  Her skin glowed with good health and the faintest touches of the sun, over a naturally golden hue all her own. Equally golden were the ringlets and gleaming locks, cascading over her shoulders in perfect array. Her hair continued to behave impeccably just by chance, nature and the blessings of certain generous divines, who really outdid themselves.

  “Rolf, Tawny, Liam, come meet her ladyship, countess Lianna Kines and her husband, the Necromancer.” A slim, red haired young man called out from across the room, drawing a glare from Gary, Shai and the Necromancer, who seemed to be anticipating something special.

  “Dude… chill!” The mad witch grumbled at his friend, who made a cheerfully rude gesture in return. “Dannyl’s right though…” He declared more firmly, while directing his new guests to the pair seated near the head of the table.

  “Lady Lianna, Necro, may I present count Liam and countess Tawny, lord and lady of Foresthome and Rolf Belen, a local hooligan and general layabout from Wheatford.”

  “Gary, you wretched, crack-brained, addle-pated, hedge-witch! I’m a peer of the realm, not one of your ridiculous clowns or confederates!” The stocky blonde man began to stutter in mingled outrage and amusement at the madman’s introduction, which quickly faded into sputtering confusion and amazement. No one was paying any attention to Rolf, not even a little, despite his antics.

  Tawny, young, golden and elegant, found herself eye to eye with Lianna, beautiful, mature and confident. Tawny swept around the table to more directly address the woman, displaying a dancer’s grace, even while distracted by the mystery before her.

  Lianna rose from her chair, swift, sure and with a warrior’s confidence. She stood, facing off with the younger woman, the way two hunting cats might, should they meet by chance in the wilderness.

  Both women stood, moved, gestured and wore expressions of wonder and confusion in perfect symmetry, as alike as any two people could be, save for all the very obvious ways in which they were quite different.

  The resemblance between the two strangers was beyond startling, into the realms of the eerie and weird, even by the admittedly high standards for ‘weird’ in the Ward household.

  Tawny slowly raised her right hand to touch the woman; unaware that Lianna was doing the same in, mirror image, all unconsciously. Their hands met, sending an unseen jolt between the two women, a jolt felt by the entire room.

  Some kind of jiggly, wiggly, percolating energy bubbled through the room, shaking the very stones of the foundation, without jostling the guests. Keen eyes might even notice a wine glass shimmying and jiggling in a semi liquid, gelatinous state for a scant heartbeat, while the wine remained still as a millpond, in the distressingly mobile glass.

  “That’s why none of the Garies ever shake hands with each other.” Necro whispered warmly into his wife’s ear, a mad, crooked grin on his face and on all the other variations on his face scattered around the room.

  “It’s crazy, watching this happen with someone who isn’t one of us.” Wheel of Fortune muttered in amazement, his voice drifting over the stunned and silent room. “What are the odds?”

  “How?” Liam asked Gary, seeming completely lost and beyond confused. “Did I smoke something from the experimental strains, or get a whiff of your silly-shrooms?” The big madman just grinned like a huge asshole and watched the show in silence.

  “Are they kin?” Sally asked in a whisper too soft to carry far. “Mother and daughter?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “They’ve never met, can’t have ever met. Lianna is from a completely different world, not far from here, as worlds go, so they aren’t even related by blood…” Amy whispered back. “High priestess Becky has some theories… which are now pretty well confirmed.”

  “A priestess? You have cults here too?” Molly asked, only slightly distracted from the odd scene playing out between two women who looked as if they were the same person, seen through a lens of dubious quality.

  “Oh, yeah, except our gods and goddesses are real. Some of them will be touching your soul soon, if you can relax and open yourself to their call. There should be some exciting metaphysical debates after this!” The eager little pirate cheered merrily.

  “Ohh! Yub yub… is soul fragmentation! Nub doubt about it!” Daisybelle said, entirely too loudly. “When we have this in goblin women, they become sisters, should they ever meet. In goblin men, they must fight until only one lives… but that’s most goblin men anyway.” She nodded vigorously and chattered her teeth at the silent tableau unfolding at the head of the table. “Souls are strange things, unfettered by minor details like time, distance or reality… or so Kingpapa says.”

  “Smarty pants daughter… Shut up now. Ghnash watches the show!” The goblin king muttered at the smiling green girl on Gandree’s lap.

  /

  Tawny stared in flabbergasted confusion, thinking at first that it must be some prank by one of the many Garies present. The woman was her, she felt that in her bones; a singing, strident insistence that this was someone that she must touch, must get to know, someone beloved of her very soul.

  “Who are you…?” They asked in perfect harmony, in two variations on the same voice; clear, rich and golden. “What is happening here?” They both asked a different Gary.

  Lianna’s husband just smiled and shrugged, while the Fool began to giggle madly, until he fell over in a heap.

  “Oh, yeah! This shit happens to me all the damn time, all of me, all the time…” He drifted off, still grinning, as he thought aloud. “I wonder if that’s part of what makes me so unnerving to normies? One of me is always meeting someone else of me, all the time, somewhen, somewhere.” He sat, slumped on the floor, dozing fitfully for a few seconds, before bolting awake and leaping back to his feet in a panic. “What did I miss?” He demanded of everyone around.

  “You missed nothing, you big goof. I’m sure that explanation made sense to some of us…” Liam began, as he dropped a hand onto his big, goofy brother’s shoulder. “The rest of us are just as confused as ever.”

  “No, Liam… He’s making perfect sense…” Tawny muttered in amazement. “Or perhaps I’ve gone mad as well.”

  “We have both lost the plot, in that case…” Lianna whispered to her new found friend and sister. “Gary… My Gary has tried again and again to explain this; only now do I understand! This is a marvel, a wonder!”

  “Indeed, a miracle, in fact. No less than a complete miracle, despite the frequency with which this happens.” Becky said firmly, taking control of the room and making it a lecture hall by sheer force of Will. “All souls are multifarious and infinite, like a jewel, eternally refracted within itself. Our physical bodies are simply impermanent manifestations of our souls, pushing into reality for a time…” She smiled and shrugged.

  “Like a jewel, a soul can emit light in many directions simultaneously, if properly illuminated, refined, cut and polished. Those projections should never meet; until free-will and mortal agency get involved.” The erudite priestess lectured her class.

  “We are drawn to each-other, souls that are similar, complementary, or contrast well with each other. We form bonds of love, friendship, camaraderie, rivalry and community. We also develop fear, distrust, loathing and hate, based at least in part, on how those elements interact.”

  “That’s a gross oversimplification, but yeah, mostly…” Gary agreed, drawing nods from many of the other Garies present.

  “How much stronger would those forces of attraction and repulsion be, when the same soul meets itself by sheer chance?” Becky muttered, while sketching a complex circle of arcane glyphs on a sheet of parchment.

  “My brother is a poor subject for comparison, since he has experienced this so many times and for so long… This should provide some interesting data!”

  With a few quick folds and a bit of cutting with her belt knife, she donned a remarkably silly pair of paper spectacles. The parchment ‘frames’ were encircled with ink drawn sutras and sigils, glyphs and runes in an eye watering array of tangled lines and curves.

  “Nice glasses, Becky!” Luna catcalled from somewhere across the room. She then pretended to cough, to feebly conceal her cry of: “Nerd!”

  “Shut up, Luna! I don’t have arcane sight… If you had any brains or my aura sense, you might have tried yours out and learned a thing or two!” The pretty, dusky priestess sassed right back at the older, one eyed Adventurer.

  “Sounds like someone wants to spar with me at dawn… since she can’t respect her elders.” The veteran Adventurer quipped with a nod, which was her version of a wink.

  “Oh, you’re on! I must be punished for discourtesy toward my venerable and aged instructor!” Becky enthused, gleefully digging her own grave, while making rapid notes of her observations of the two lab subjects at the trestle table.

  “Gods above and below…!” Sirs Kermal Singh and Imran Khan muttered in harmony together. The two knights, one older with olive skin and a marvelous ‘stache, one young, dusky and handsome; both shook their heads at their wives, before glancing at the other woman, seeking an end to the farce. Both of the ladies seemed fully committed to beating the stuffing out of each other before breakfast, just for the fun of it… worse, they expected their husbands to join in. The two men locked eyes across the table and sighed as one.

  “Women.” They muttered, while their wives planned an early morning, four way duel.

  “Think of their antics as releasing pressure from a tightly lidded pot. If too many Garies all pay attention to the same thing at the same time, things get… weird.” Amy whispered, during the fight negotiations.

  “Weird? How so?” Molly asked softly. “I mean, weirder than what’s already going on, all around us?”

  “Daughter, be nice! We’re guests in their home!” Sally whispered urgently, before turning to Amy and smiling. “She has a point, though.”

  “You got us there…” The young Adventurer whispered back, without moving her lips. It was kinda creepy, the way it sounded exactly as if she had whispered her words in their ears from so close they should have felt her lips on their lobes. “We do tend toward the spooky and eldritch, generally.”

  “Come come, children… We go out to the small house. This is getting too strange for you.” Ghnash grumbled at the two prisoners and their minders. “Ragamuffins, Clown-Shoes, all go to bed, this is a royal decree from king Ghnash the mighty and terrible! Daisybelle and Gandree, too! Bedtime! Is witchdoctor’s orders!”

  “Which one should we obey first? The decree or the prescription?” Rio asked sassily. “Who ranks higher, the king of the witchdoctor?”

  “Harumph!” Ghnash muttered jovially; through a wide, mischievous grin. “Kids are big for britches too… Is fighting words. Duel at dawn, be there or be hexed!”

  “Oh, Kingpapa’s sparring? Big fun!” Daisybell chirped merrily. “Gimme some of that! Gandree boy too! We clomp kingpapa, take throne! Coop day tattoo!”

  “I don’t wanna sit in that horrid skull chair… I’ll make you a nice swivel-glide rocker.” The crafty dwarf promised. “It’ll be a rideable plushie, warg shaped!”

  “Ok, Kingpapa keeps his dumb throne-bone… We still whomp him good!” The bubbly green murder machine enthused. “I is bad administrator, anyway. Kingdom go broke double quick!”

  “Yes, darling you are a silly spendthrift and a complete ninny about finance, trade and logistics. A quadruple threat, fiscally speaking.” The dwarf murmured fondly.

  “Bah, we go to casino! I wins it all back and more! I can has golds now! Golds!” She giggled happily. Stupid akashic record thingiee is all fixed! Steel, brass, bronze, copper and gold!” She giggled happily, while climbing her burly boyfriend and snuggling inside his coat to hide from the evening chill.

  The king herded the whole gaggle out and across the inn yard to Wilf and Rio’s places, with continued insistence that they all turn in for the night.

  “Golds, many golds…” Daisybelle muttered, her face pressed into Gandree’s chest as she chased her dreams of avarice into the night.

  /

  Lianna and Tawny were lost in their own world, talking softly, heads together, creating a sexy singularity that was pretty disturbingly pretty. Meanwhile, the Necromancer found himself following the ladies out into the moonlit gardens, beside count Liam.

  “This is pretty awkward… socially.” The young count finally muttered. “I am to understand that you are a potent being in your own right… Still, I can’t help but see you as a fraction of a Gary, who’s married to someone I’m pretty certain is my wife.”

  “I am a ‘potent being’ by any standard, young man. I’m also unguessably more ancient than you could imagine.” The Necromancer whispered back with a cheerful note in his very familiar voice. “And I’m pretty sure you’re married to my wife, you rascal!”

  “Are you really an undead entity?” The count asked bluntly, hoping to either distract himself from the absurdly awkward situation, or gain a quick death.

  “Oh, yeah... Well, almost. I’m a natural expression of an undead lifeform. That cleared up nothing, right?” Necro replied. “We are all, all of us and all of these interlinked worlds, we’re in the universe’s back pocket like a bus pass… Sat on forgotten and moulded into the shape of eternity’s ass.”

  “Gods, you’re just like him, but so different!” Liam whispered in awe. “That’s super weird!”

  “I get it kid… but shouldn’t you be at least a little in awe of the ages old, undying being, standing before you?” The Necromancer asked, sounding a little down about the whole evening. “I appeared as a skeletal dragon, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Oh, no… I get it! You are a being of great power and immense age. I respect your wisdom and am trembling with fear, really! It’s just… My Gary killed a bunch of immortals while I watched and murdered a quarter of our pantheon.”

  The handsome nobleman shrugged and smiled wanly. “Just this month, he declared blood feud on one of the divines and hexed her terribly; after summoning her against her will, into a bowl of slop in his basement. The bar is set pretty high, or stunningly low… I can’t say.”

  “I see why you and the Fool get along. I like you, kid we should swap wives…” Necro held up his hand to forestall violence. “For breakfast, son! I’d like to talk to a legit priestess of a goddess of healing. I’ve never had the chance before, for professional reasons… With all the banishing spells, cleansing rituals and holy sutras flying around, it’s hard to have a meaningful exchange of ideas. My wife will probably want to test your steel in the training yard tomorrow morning. She’s a terror with a blade, be ready or you might get embarrassed.”

  “We have a few of those in the family; she’ll fit right in. Are you staying at the inn?” Liam murmured, while the ladies continued their intense, hushed exchange.

  “Yes, my brother has found us a room. There is a plush butthole embroidered with ‘do not disturb’ clinging to the door… I dared not ask.” The ancient, undying lich mumbled, sounding both embarrassed and amused.

  “Like most of his works, it makes no sense, unless you are already in the know.” The count replied with a wicked, smug smile on his obnoxiously handsome face. “In brief, when my Gary was new to this power…” He waved to indicate the house and grounds. “An unwelcome stranger arrived by surprise, assuming this to be a mundane inn, as anyone might.”

  “I see… not really.” Necro sighed.

  “We pretended to be a mundane inn, to no avail; our ploy failed and our guest later became a close friend and mentor.” Liam smiled as he remembered those hectic months of his youth.

  “The asshole door marker is a memento of that encounter. A fond memento, only honored guests get to stay in the butthole suite.”

  “Ahh… What room are you in, might I ask?” Necro mumbled crossly, but still amused.

  “Hmm? Oak leaf. Right across from plum blossom and cherry blossom.” He replied, abstractedly.

  “And we are in the butthole suite.” He complained without much heat behind it.

  “It’s a very nice sphincter! Bath adjacent, with a view of the lake and garden!” Liam insisted through a grin. “You can remove the turd-cutter from your door, but it will reappear before long. Just let it happen, friend.”

  “Yes… I think I shall. My dear Lianna will no doubt be amused by the crudity of the gag. Does it make a farty noise when the door is opened?” The terrifying boogeyman of one hundred worlds asked, with mild amusement in his voice.

  “Oh, no! Don’t give him any ideas! He’s regaining his power too quickly, anything could happen when he’s in this state. We’ve seen this before; last time, he exploded and tossed a whole new moon into the sky.” The young count smiled warmly at the much, much older man and sighed.

  “No one does unpredictable, like the Fool.” Necro agreed.

  “Thank the gods! I think we’re past that whole thing now. That was like the third most awkward I’ve ever felt!” The count produced a pipe and puffed it into life effortlessly. “This is comfrey and rose petals, moistened with honey and orange blossom rum. My wife won’t let me smoke myself stupid tonight.”

  “Ahh, I’m immune to all intoxicants, not having any living biology.” Necro mumbled. “My wife smokes like a chimney, though. I swear, her brain must be hickory smoked by now.”

  “I heard that, husband!” Lianna barked sharply at the Necromancer, who grinned at her in return. “I am always in full possession of my faculties, shall we talk about the many times you’ve dragged yourself home, shadow-drunk and crammed full of strange ghosts?”

  “Hush, woman! You’re embarrassing me in front of our new friends!” The undying lich complained weakly.

  /