The wind runner book 10.., p.22
The Wind Runner: Book 10 (The Wandering Inn), page 22
“You got them all to sign like that?”
“Yes.”
Somehow, Lyonette even imagined it hadn’t been that hard for Erin. The [Innkeeper] had an intensity about her at times that would cow even her father. At times. Other times, she was silly and relaxed. Was everyone from her world like that?
No, just her. Lyonette bit her lip.
“So you’re going to leave the inn? Go travelling?”
“Yeah. I mean, not all the time. But sometimes. I’ll…go to Pallass first. Get Numbtongue through. See what it’s like. But I can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”
“Good.”
Erin blinked. Lyonette smiled.
“It’s a good idea. Leave the inn to me. I’ll manage it while you’re gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Lyonette sat up. She looked Erin in the eye.
“Give me the authority to use the money in the inn and make decisions. I’ll rebuild it. Change some things. If you’re okay with that. All you have to do is cook while you’re here. I’ll run the inn. And earn you money. You go travelling—bring a magic door with you or something. And I’ll take over the inn.”
“But…”
All of Erin’s objections faded away as she looked at Lyonette. And she remembered Lyonette had run Erin’s inn before. She’d enjoyed it, in fact. She was a [Princess] when all was said and done.
“I suppose you need a promotion.”
“I’ll give myself a raise.”
The two grinned at each other. Lyonette looked around.
“Mrsha can go with you. If it’s safe. And this inn will be here. You’ll come back to it. And—”
And she’d make it bigger. Better. This inn had so much potential. Erin had been content to leave it as it had been, to expand when only necessary. But Lyonette envisioned a different place. A third floor, and Bird’s tower was only the start. All she needed was coin and a chance to try something new. The things from Erin’s world…
For the first time in a while, Lyonette was excited about her job. And she saw that Erin looked happier. As if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“It’s not happening yet. So don’t start knocking down walls right away! But as soon as Hawk gets to Pallass—there’s all kinds of places I want to go. And I’m going to send the Horns to look for Ryoka.”
“You think they’ll find her.”
“Them. Or Griffon Hunt. Or the Halfseekers. I want to go north, too. North and south and—”
Erin was speaking when a sound came from the stage. Heads turned. Numbtongue’s quiet tuning of the guitar had turned into faint strumming. The Hobgoblin looked up and stared across his audience. He found Erin and Lyonette in the crowd. They turned to face him as Numbtongue played on his new guitar.
Sparks crackled from the strings. For a moment. But only that. Numbtongue had already used his guitar once.
Lightning from the skies, striking a tall Hobgoblin, a mountain lurching across the ground. For a second, Eater of Spears was a ball of light. And then he fell, and Numbtongue played his dirge, played and played and heard the music again.
It was back in him. The Hobgoblin played a riff, and the crowd took notice. Then he began to strum a slower beat.
It was no song that Erin had taught him that came from the guitar. It had no notes. It was spontaneous. Meant to go with words. A quiet melody. Numbtongue played it for a minute. Then he looked up and sang. His voice was quiet at first, but it grew louder, echoing.
Adventurers focused on him. [Guards] and [Mages]. Drakes and Humans, Gnolls, Garuda and Selphid, half-Giant and Drowned Man. A pair of half-Elves glanced up as Numbtongue’s voice rolled through the inn.
This is a Goblin song,
You don’t know it, so don’t bother singing along
From Baleros to Chandrar to Izril, north and south
You’d never believe it if it didn’t come from Goblin mouth.
But it’s true; we sing and laugh and smile and weep
And we’re proud and wise and foolish and meek
So if it’s a Goblin’s ears you seek—
Remember, you call us monsters, but we sing and speak.
We broke the moths of Liscor’s dungeon and held the breach
And we fought the Raskghar in the deeps
We took arms against brother fighting the Goblin Lord
For an [Innkeeper]’s tears and no reward
And died to Drake spear and Human sword.
We fought for you, we monsters green
We can rhyme (we’re more than we seem!),
So if you seek us in our hidden homes and quiet dens
Come as people, come as friends
Or come as you always have, to be our end.
But remember this day; you’ll never forget
You heard a Goblin song
We’re not all dead yet.
That was all. It wasn’t a great song. Or even a good one. Numbtongue had come up with it over a day, mainly by rhyming. But it was his song. His first song. And while it was poor compared to the lyrics that burned in his heart from Erin’s world, it was enough. It brought tears to eyes, it made people doubt reality.
It was enough. Numbtongue rested his claws over the guitar strings, ready to play another song. And sing it too. He didn’t expect the reaction.
Erin Solstice clapped her hands, standing up. She wasn’t the only one. Numbtongue’s head came up. He heard foot stomps, someone banging a mug—and applause. He saw faces gazing at him. And they weren’t angry. Some had tears. Others looked ashamed. And some just looked at him, a Goblin on the stage, without hatred.
He hadn’t expected that. Goblins never did. But Numbtongue accepted it. He enjoyed it. For a second or two, the applause fell like warm rain. Then it was over. But Numbtongue chased it. He began to play. And the music was there. Changed. Forever changed, but it was there. It echoed through the inn. And this time, a Goblin’s voice came with it.
A Goblin’s song. As the people listened, it made them sit up. It brought strength to weary limbs. Hope for the future. And the Goblin sang and sang. He was crying, laughing, smiling. For he was experiencing something few Goblins had ever felt. A wish he didn’t even know fulfilled. A sense of peace. Hope.
At long last, he was home.
[Bard Level 27!]
[Skill – Song of Rejuvenation obtained!]
6.04 D
Night was falling on Baleros. The jungles, always filled with life and motion, died down somewhat as a calmer, cooler atmosphere swept through the continent. Baleros, the continent of war and riches, grew quieter.
But no less alive. And in the break in the jungles, in an open haven of space where the green gave way to white beaches, a Lizardgirl bathed alone in the fading sunlight. Water dripped from her scales as she washed herself in a jungle stream meeting the ocean. Her neck-frills shone with moisture as she turned, her nude body catching the last rays of the sun.
It was there he found her. A proud Centaur, his top half bare, his sweaty skin bared to the cool air. He paused for a second as the Lizardgirl realized he was standing there.
“Oh. Pardon me, Miss. I didn’t know the stream was…occupied.”
“And I didn’t realize I’d have a guest.”
The Lizardgirl tilted her head. She propped her hands on her hips. The Centaur looked down and scuffed at the grass with one hoof.
“I should go.”
“Oh, but must you? There’s enough stream for both of us. And I’m not intending to stop bathing for a while.”
The Centaur looked back. His white teeth flashed in the gloom, and his flank rippled as he trotted forwards. With one bare arm, he bent and held out a hand. The Lizardgirl smiled, her multicolored scales gleamed, and the frills around her neck opened slightly. She pressed her warm body to his, feeling his short fur ripple in the moonlight. She ran a hand down his tail.
“You’re quite bold, sir.”
“I’m sorry. I thought this was enough stream for both of us. Unless I should bathe downstream?”
She smiled.
“Oh, no. I think we can fit ourselves in together. But, ah—why don’t I help you?”
She ran one claw down his flank. The stallion shivered as the Lizardgirl bent lower. And as she reached for his—
“Hey, Daly. What are you reading?”
The young Australian man looked up. He broke off from the steamy scene of Centaur-Lizardgirl sex. The faded parchment in his hands began to roll up. Daly straightened.
A part of the jungle seemed to be speaking to him. That was, until the girl crouching across from Daly moved. Then you could see where her body started and the forest began. But for that, she was quite, quite hard to spot; she stayed still, whispering. And her body was layered in a composite of mud and lichen so that if she was lying down she might pass for an odd splotch in the earth.
A mosquito whined past Daly’s ear. He didn’t swat at it, even when it landed on his arm. It probably wouldn’t bite him through the similar mud camouflage on his body. And if it did? Daly had too many bites to worry about one more. Instead, he carefully handed the parchment to the girl without a word. His hands had left some mud on the parchment, so she took it by the corner and squinted.
Just like in the piece of erotica, night was falling over Baleros. Only, unlike the idyllic scene with the nude Lizardgirl, Baleros didn’t get quieter with the fading light. If anything, it got louder.
Or maybe that was just how it felt to be in the jungle. Baleros wasn’t all plant and dense tropical forest. Like any continent, it differed in geography. But it was best known for the choking, nearly impenetrable green that marked the continent. For, while each continent had uninhabited places, patches of land unclaimed or, at least, unsettled by sheer virtue of the size of the world, only Baleros could lay claim to true wilderness.
Between the jungle-cities of the Lizardfolk, the ordered settlements of the Dullahans, the sprawling Centaurian camps, and the other settlements by the races of Baleros, there was jungle. And you could lose an army in the densest places, where even sunlight never saw the forest floor.
This place wasn’t nearly so deep. But it was deep. No trails existed; Daly and his group had gone off the road, and all traces of civilization had vanished. The greenery around them buzzed with insects mating, preying on each other, the croaking of frogs, and…other things.
And here they were, in that chaos. Daly, the girl squatting across from him, frowning at the parchment, and six other Humans. Four were Australian. The other two, the girl included, were from Sweden. Yes, Sweden of all places. Was it that surprising? Perhaps not, but Daly wouldn’t have usually bet on meeting a Swede crouching in the jungle, covered in camouflage, reading in complete silence.
Her name was Siri, no relation to the iPhone voice. It took her a minute to realize what she was reading. When she did, she looked up and raised one mud-covered eyebrow.
“Erotica? I didn’t know you read it.”
“I don’t. Give it here.”
Daly carefully took the loose pages of parchment and wiped at a bit of mud stuck to them. The pages were worn, and some of the ink smudged. It was no book; the parchment was loose and unbound, and the inky handwriting slanted as the writer struggled to keep to nonexistent page lines. But Daly handled it carefully as he edged closer to Siri.
“It was written by a friend. I sometimes read it to have a laugh.”
“Really? One of us? Who?”
Daly paused.
“You wouldn’t know her. Her name was Caroline.”
“Oh.”
Siri understood what Daly meant from the expression on his face and didn’t ask further questions. She looked down at the parchment as they squatted together, shoulders touching. Neither noticed. Or cared.
The jungle buzzed. But the two kept their voices so low that it was barely audible to each other over the background noise. As the light vanished, the writing faded from sight completely. Neither Siri nor Daly suggested lighting anything, though. And Daly spoke into her ear.
“It’s funny. I’ll lend it to you if you want. And it’s, uh, not bad.”
“Hot Centaur sex?”
“And the Lizardgirl. And a Dullahan appears later in. It’s unrealistic, though.”
“Yeah. Anyone with a bare chest would have a bunch of mosquitoes eating them.”
Daly grinned.
“No, I meant the other parts. Lizardpeople have cool bodies, not warm ones. And Centaurs hate anyone touching their tails.”
“Hah. That is funny. Lend it to me, please.”
“After we’re done.”
Daly carefully rolled up the parchment and inserted it into his belt pouch. He half-rose and glanced around. The small camp he and Siri inhabited was quiet. Dead quiet. The few insects who were attracted to the living bodies went about their business, but the Humans barely moved. Even when something bit Daly on the leg, he just stomped it quickly and only checked for blood. He and Siri were quiet. They didn’t ask when the others were coming. They didn’t make conversation. They sat, listening, alert for any larger sounds coming their way.
It wasn’t safe in the jungle at night. It wasn’t insanely dangerous either of course; it wasn’t as if monsters lurked around every tree or dangerous plants and animals were always underfoot, but it wasn’t as if such threats didn’t exist either. If you had to spend the night in the jungle, you were best served by not attracting attention to yourself.
“What happened to her?”
Siri’s whisper was so faint Daly thought it was just a thought. For a moment. He focused on her. She was invisible in the darkness. The moon and starlight were mostly blocked by the canopy. He hesitated.
“She disappeared one day.”
“Oh.”
Daly’s throat constricted. But what else could you say? This was Baleros. A continent defined by conflict. By war. And it was his…home. The place where he lived, at any rate. If you could call it that. Sometimes…Daly closed his eyes. Things were different than they had been when he’d first appeared here, bewildered, confused, surrounded by young men and women from Melbourne’s airport. Back then, Baleros had been hell. But they had survived it. And time had passed since then. Two and a half months to be exact.
When had Caroline written this? Right after the battle, that was it. Right after they’d survived the bloody battle between the Razorshard Armor Company and the Roving Arrow Company in the forests. When they’d first formed the United Nations company. Daly felt the parchment in his belt pouch shift a bit as he drew his knees closer to his chest. Back then, they’d been so optimistic. Hadn’t they? It had all seemed like everything was going to be alright. And it had been. For a while. It had been grand…
——
“She ran one claw down his flank. The stallion shivered as the Lizardgirl bent lower. She reached for his huge, throbbing—”
Kenjiro Murata broke off reading the piece of parchment and stared at what came next. He blinked, not trusting to the translation his brain provided, and then read on. He turned crimson and hastily lowered the parchment.
“Well?”
A girl stared at him. She was blushing too. That was somehow even more uncomfortable, so Ken jerked his eyes back down to the parchment and kept reading. He got four more sentences in and felt the tips of his ears burning. He looked up again and hesitated.
He was a [Negotiator]. A diplomat, but low-level. And Ken was from Earth. He was Japanese, a student from another world who had been accidentally (or perhaps intentionally?) teleported to this one. To Baleros, a continent defined by mercenary companies and war. He had successfully negotiated a ceasefire between two companies, survived a bloody battlefield, and even formed a company of people from his world and this one.
None of it helped in this case. Kenjiro looked at the page of what was in essence…smut. Yes, that was the English word for it. Or…porn. Erotica?
The different words and definitions popped into Ken’s mind. He had never heard the word ‘smut’ before, or ‘erotica’, but he somehow knew the definition of the word in Japanese when he thought of it. It was most likely due to his Skill, [Amateur Linguist]. Thanks to it, Ken had understood exactly what had been written.
“Ah, Caroline. This is…”
“It’s a work in progress. I’m not done with it.”
The young woman broke in hastily. She was Australian, about nineteen years old, and currently the color of an apple. A red one, that was. She indicated the page, and Ken realized she’d only gotten one page in. And amazingly, it looked like there was quite a lot of potential for more pages.
Carefully, Ken put the parchment down and looked at Caroline. He had a number of things he wanted to say, but his desire to be polite, and his class, took over. Always be polite. Be accommodating. You could go far with words. Ken had no intention of going half as far as anything Caroline had just described, but he had to know.
“I understand what is written, Caroline. But, um, what is the purpose of it?”
If she wanted his input on what the Centaur should do next, he would run away. But that didn’t seem to be why Caroline had pulled Ken aside. She knew he was very busy trying to organize the budding group, the United Nations company, and all the disparate factions that made it up. People from Earth, Quallet and the former mercenaries, all of whom hailed from different cultures, backgrounds, and species. But Ken felt positive about the challenge.
They could make this work. They could form a company that would not only look for people from their world, but would support and protect each other. They had a number of brilliant people among them. Luan, who was an Olympic rower from their world—or at least, an Olympic hopeful. Quallet, a [Mercenary Captain] who’d decided to stick with them even after the disastrous battle he’d narrowly survived, Centaurs and Dullahans and Lizardfolk, including the [Sorcerer], Quexa, and last but not least, Geneva.
The Last Light of Baleros. The [Doctor]. Possibly the most medically knowledgeable person in the world. Ken had watched her work on the battlefield, and if there was anyone whose abilities were invaluable and irreplaceable, it was her. As a [Negotiator], Ken hoped to bring all these people together and create something special. But this?
