Terry still wasn’t used to the terrain in Biloxi. The trees weren’t as tall or as densely packed as back home so there was a a lot more sky than he was used to. He found it almost unnerving as he drove along the inland streets of the town at Delores' direction until they reached an apartment complex. It actually looked like a converted motel more than apartments. As he guided Thunder into a parking space he noticed it looked in pretty bad shape. Not just due to the hurricane.
Delores let go of his waist, climbed off of Thunder and looked to the second floor.
“So, uh,” she said. “Do you want to come up for a minute while I pack?”
He tried to mask his blush by taking off his goggles and stowing them. He hoped he didn’t seem as nervous as he felt.
“Sure.” He said trying to sound nonchalant. She headed toward a stairway and he followed. He tried to walk casual. He probably looked like a robot. At her door she turned to him.
“Look, I need to apologize for the state of my apartment right up front.” She seemed embarrassed herself. “I’ve been doing volunteer work for weeks and I’ve been too tired to clean. So, you know, it is what it is.”
Terry just nodded and gave her a smile. It seemed to help.
The room was, well, it wasn’t a disaster but it was dangerously close to one. Like a fire too close to a gas station. It was a single room apartment with a kitchenette and the furniture, including a fold out sofa bed, was obviously furnished. The whole room looked like someone lived in it, but it wasn’t home. It made him feel sad.
He followed her in and shut the door behind him. The first thing he noticed was a bra draped over a closet door and he tried desperately to not look at anything in particular for too long. She pulled a couple of travel bags out and started packing clothes into one and notebooks and what looked like assorted junk in the other.
“So,” he said to distract himself, “Isn’t your landlord going to want a notice or something?”
“Probably. If I had one. I don’t think the guy stuck around after the hurricane because I know I haven’t paid rent.” She stopped and looked at him. She grinned. “What’s wrong, Mr. Knight? Never been in a girl’s room?”
Terry turned several shades of red at once and tried to look relaxed. He was suddenly aware of every muscle in his body and he had no idea what to do with any of them. Her eyes widened.
“Oh my god, you haven’t have you?” she grinned at him.
Terry took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He attempted to not notice the smells in the room. They were, well, girly.
“Here’s the thing.” He said. “I was raised on a farm and obviously didn’t go to school. My entire life has pretty much been training for this.” He gestured at his armor and duster. “I haven’t had a lot of experience with anyone, let alone girls.”
“That was shockingly honest.” She said. “Most guys would have tried to cover that.”
“Well, if we’re going to be partners I don’t want to start this all off on a lie.”
Delores nodded and got back to her packing. She spoke as she did so.
“That’s good. But just so we’re clear, this is a business thing, right? I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. Or a fling for that matter.”
Terry’s eyes grew wide.
“Right! Obviously! Great!” He was pretty sure that was great. He had no idea how he would even go about starting something like that. Was there paperwork? Wouldn't he have to meet her parents or something?
He looked at the bra again and snapped his gaze to a stack of magazines on the coffee table instead. Something about the cover struck him as odd. It hit him. He decided asking would help distract him from more lacy things.
“Modern Mage Magazine?”
“What of it?”
“Magazine? I would have assumed mages had all made the jump to digital. That’s all.”
“Magic is volatile,” she said patiently. “The spells sort of. . . . float? I guess? They change when they’re online or digital. The meaning shifts. Something about the magic and the nature of it and the transient nature of digital media.”
Terry nodded. She seemed to know her stuff!
“So that’s why you’ve got all the notebooks?”
“Bingo.” She said as she finished her packing.
“Putting the words and designs down on the page tames them. It makes them solid. Real.”
She went to the closet, snatched the bra down, stuffed it in a bag, and grabbed one last thing. It was a coat. She put it on and Terry tried to wrap his head around the construction of the thing. The sleeves were a bit too long and cuffed at the end, the collar was huge, and for some reason it had gaps at the tops of the sleeves exposing her shoulders. He tilted his head and scratched his cheek trying to figure it out. He kept looking at her bare shoulders.
Delores spread her arms showing it off, giving it a twirl.
“It’s like a wizard’s robe. But fashionable.”
“Ah.” Terry said. He just found himself looking at her for longer than he really meant to. She looked back. It became very awkward.
“So now what?” Delores asked.
“Oh!” he gave himself a shake. “No idea. I guess I should find a way station and see what needs doing.”
“Great. I know where one is over in D’Iberville.”
“Awesome!” he said. “Show me the way?”
“Don’t you have a cellphone? Some kinda app?”
“No.” He said.
“Good lord.”
Twenty two minutes later they coasted into the parking lot of a strip mall on Lemoyne Boulevard. The way station was just down from a comic book shop and it seemed sketchy to Terry.
“This is the only one?” he asked doubtfully as they climbed off the scooter. Delores shrugged.
“The only one still standing right now.”
Terry shrugged back and pushed the door open. The inside had all the charm of a run down liquor store. There was a sort of bar along the right wall with an old PC secured to the counter and some taller stools. On the left wall was the community cork-board. The rest of the room was taken up by a long counter with both plexiglass and iron bars separating Terry and Delores from the old man behind it. Behind him were filing cabinets and a drink cooler full of beer and soda. He looked at them both with suspicious eyes.
“Hello, sir.” Said Terry trying to project confidence. The old man wasn’t impressed.
“Get to your business and get.” He looked at Terry’s tabard with it’s red cross on white and then back to his face. “You an Errant?”
Terry walked up to the counter and, tilting his head up, spoke directly into the holes in the plexiglass.
“Yes sir. I need to update my tally and wanted to check the board.”
“Aight.” The old man said, pulling a keyboard closer to himself and shaking his head. “What’d ya kill?”
Terry leaned over to Delores and whispered.
“Can you check the board there and see if anything catches your fancy?” She nodded and strolled over to look. The old man drummed his fingers on the counter waiting.
“A gargouille, sir.” He told the man who raised an eyebrow at Terry before he started typing.
“Any help?” he asked.
Terry gestured with his thumb over to Delores.
“I meant knights.” The old man sighed.
“Oh. No sir. Just us.”
The old man leveled an unbelieving look at Terry. His expression drifted into incredulity. “Are you serious, boy?”
“Yes sir."
Terry reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a long tooth. It was yellowed and smelled vaguely of fish. He pushed it under the plexi-glass and bars to the old man. The distinctive shape would be on a chart in a drawer if the man didn’t believe him.
“If you could log that under Terry Lingal?”
The old man nodded slowly and typed for a moment. He stared at the screen closely, then his eyes started to widen. He looked back at Terry in something approaching awe.
“Good God, you’re Glen’s boy.” He said.
Terry couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes sir. All six feet, five inches of me.”
“Well I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d be going after so many dragons.” He typed in Terry’s kill before looking at him again. “You ok? You need anything? Bandages? A beer?”
His earlier standoffishness seemed to have dropped. The name Lingal seemed to carry some weight out here.
“No sir. I’m good.”
Delores came over to stand beside him.
“Nothing good.” She said. She looked at a small cardboard stand with self-made little booklets in it and picked one up to thumb through it. The old man noticed as he continued to type.
“Want one?” he said. “I tried sellin’ ‘em but no dice. You can have one if you want it. Or all of them. Or there’s a garbage can in the corner.”
Terry looked over Delores’ shoulder as she looked through it. It was a pulp! A self-made, unofficial pulp! The cover of the ones still in the PDQ said “Tales of a Modern Knight” with the name “Robert Lawless” underneath and a byline of “Elton Beasley”. He grinned. He loved the pulps. They were one of the things that convinced him to be a knight, after all, so he grabbed one for himself.
“Hey,” he said to the old man, “do you mind if I sit down for a few and read this?”
“Not at all.”
Delores let out a loud, exaggerate sigh. She dropped the book back in the PDQ and looked at Terry, shoving her hands in her coat pockets.
“You’re not really going to read that whole thing here, are you?” she asked.
Terry held the booklet to his chest defensively.
“Well, I mean, it’s not long. Besides, I could use a breather after all that.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Ok. But I’m gonna get bored.”
The old man perked up.
“There’s a comic book store next door! They’ve got some grimoire too!”
She looked at him.
“They give you a cut for referrals or something?”
“Sometimes!” he said grinning.
She let out another sigh.
“Fine. I’ll be back.” With that she walked out the door and went next door.
Terry grinned at the man and walked over to a stool and sat to read.
The book told of a knight, the titular Robert Lawless, teaming up with some knights and fighting off a bunch of drow in the small town of Hilochita, Mississippi. For being so short, it was fairly well written, minus a bizarre preoccupation with local landmarks, and seemingly specific directions to the town. At the end there was a veiled invitation for other “noble knights” to come to Hilochita and visit the great Sir Robert Lawless. It was suspicious. Terry knew it was bait. He took the hook. Terry looked up from the last page and found the old man watching him.
“Garbage, innit?” he said nodding at it. “I think the whole thing is bull crap. Lawless’ll take any chance to toot his own horn. Besides, I ain’t heard anything about drow in this state since. . . Well, since your papa fought some.”
Terry perked up.
“You knew my dad?” he asked excitedly.
“Not personally. I’ve been running this place for a long time. I knew him by reputation. Always hoped we’d have something go down here or in Biloxi that would draw him and I’d get to meet him. Don’t get to meet a real hero often.” He gave Terry an appraising look. “That being said, I’m glad I got to meet you, Mr. Lingal. I expect to hear big things from you.”
Terry tried to stop the grin from spreading on his face and absolutely failed to do so. He looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his head.
“Thank you, sir. I just want to do what’s right, you know?”
The door opened and Delores came back in with a white bag with “Thank You!” printed all over it. She looked at Terry.
“Oh good. You’re done. I never actually looked in there before. It's a really nice comic shop and they have a decent selection of books on counter spells.” She tilted her head and looked at him. Her expression softening. “Any idea where we’re going, oh hero?”
Terry looked at the old man, then at the book in his hand, then back at Delores.
“Ever heard of Hilochita?”
Comments (0)
See all