Funkin weird, p.10
Funkin' Weird, page 10
With every single misgiving known to man, plus seven, I arrived at the window and passed it through, watching as the cup and whirlwind grew to titan specs. An urgent, automatic petition squeezed my heart.
Protect Aegeus. I screwed up big-time.
Tethys lifted her drink and took a sip, then a second one. With an oversized and semi dramatic shrug, she downed it, passing it back.
“What a letdown; I don’t feel a damn thing…”
With a fizzing pop, she shot in the air, flitting in uncontrollable directions as both my bars emptied, magicals and humans alike heading for the pier to see the show. Tethys, careening like a New York City parade balloon with the mother of all leaks, zinged across the sky, squealing.
“Wheee!”
A few well-placed elbows got me through to the railing and I climbed up onto the flat top, unknown hands gripping my calves and ankles, sucked in air and screamed, “Tethys!” My arm shot out, finger pointing at the sea.
“OoooKaaay Keeeeeeperrrrrr.” She zoomed by, still traveling over hundreds of freaking humans, and navigated a wobbly turn, using her arms like wings.
“Waahooo!” she zipped toward the horizon as I gripped helping hands to clamber off the rail.
I swear to the gods, these titans are gonna make me old.
“Titan Oceanus, to celebrate our agreement that you will liaise for the world’s armed forces, and present our positions regarding our new alignment as the peacekeeping force of the seas, we bestow these gifts.” The naval admiral appeared, for him, giddy. Negotiating a private titan to be their liaison was a prodigious feat.
Oceanus, standing on the huge pad Poseidon constructed and turned a festive red, beamed. He now held true purpose in this turning. His new job was the war piece Ares ignored, and poking that bear was fun.
His eyes panned the enormous disc, packed with mer, Poseidon, his kid, and a thousand humans. Many were from fishing fleets. The majority, in matching outfits, motored over on small boats from the huge metal naval ships, flying a variety of flags while bobbing around the pad.
“I stand ready to help,” he boomed, accepting a fancy spear decorated with insignias, and a remarkable shell blade from an Australian trumpet lashed to an ancient mahogany ship’s mast. “These are great toys. Thank you.”
Raising both into the air, he crossed them. “Peace above and below the surface. Fairness to everyone. I stand here…”
Tethys, careening ass over elbows, barrelled in on the last dregs of a whirling whisp of mayhem toward the giant red target with a shriek. “I’m running on fumes!”
Poseidon tossed Aegeus to the mer standing beside him, who dove over the side with her safe in his arms as Tethys hit the edge; the impact threw the disc up onto one side and heaved the occupants, tables, and food overboard, the ocean cutting off a chorus of cussing as they splashed in the swells. Oceanus, occupying the opposite end of the pad, sailed overhead, the sun glinting on his spears as he zoomed toward the shore.
“Well, shit.” Tethys said as she bounced. “Not the ending I envisioned.”
Mer, assisting sailors and salvaging the dregs of their party, glowered. Poseidon grabbed Tethys on her third bounce and stepped off the edge, growing until his feet connected with the ocean’s floor.
“We’ll be having a chat,” his soul shaking voice carried to the sailors and mer. “Expect me.”
His great arm extended backward, and he launched a nominally subdued Tethys after her cartwheeling husband.
“Stay on shore.”
“I’m sorrreeeeeey,” reverberated across the water as Tethys flew, shrinking until she vanished from sight.
Poseidon’s face settled into irritation. He gestured to the party as the food, drink, and seating restored, swamped dinghies raised and re-tied to the pad’s edges, and the last of the upended sailors and fishing folk pulled themselves over the disc’s edge.
Two cases of booze flew, landing in each of the sea god’s hands. “Admiral, could I interest you in a tequila? Rounds for everyone?”
Glasses and bottles rose and Poseidon rolled his eyes. “Here’s to the unexpected.”
Oceanus strode through the ocean toward the beach, fuming, as Tethys sailed overhead and flopped with a splat in the waves fifty yards from the pier’s end.
“You are a colossal pain in my ass,” he roared as she got her feet under her and stood to face him. “I was having a moment. Mine alone.”
“I gave you more than 6,000 offspring,” she snapped. “You want to discuss pains in the nethers? I fucking win.”
They glowered, arguing as both bars and the restaurant emptied, again. My profitability was taking a beating; these titanic activities kept drink reorders low. I nudged Charlie. “Grab Gloria and run trays of jello shots out there. Two for $5.”
“On it, Boss.”
As customers slurped rum laced jello and loosened up, I wormed to the far rail, a move I instantly regretted.
“You drive me insane! Why can’t you get it through your thick serpent skull that I need ME time? I’m not here for you, Oceanus. No wait! Even better, I’m here for you as much as you’ve been here for me.”
Oceanus blinked. “But I cherish you, Tethys. The world was brand new, and we changed it with our love. You amazed me; you still do. I thought we did OK.”
The crowd sighed, and Charlie bumped through with two more trays, a thick wad of folded fives jammed between three of his fingers. Glo headed inside to reload. Things were looking up…
I turned back and groaned. Up? As in, way up. Tethys and Oceanus were sucking face like the old pros they were, and his massive dong waved at my customers as they staggered in the surf. Jello shots in multiple hues raised in salute, and the crowd cheered as Charlie caught my eye and grinned.
“It’s ‘on like Donkey Kong’.”
No shit. A celestial bang-fest o’rama, cannoli hiding on an epic–never to be erased from memory–scale.
Cherry on top? Tethy’s a screamer. I need a drink.
Chapter Seventeen
Parker ran The Boogey tonight, but I decided to skip sleep and sat in the office, tired but caught up to a reasonable point. Restaurant orders for the week? Check. Booze and beer? On its way. Payroll? Prepped. Waldo’s due tomorrow, so The Boogey’s stock for the new was on deck. I’d set a deep clean schedule for the next month, ordered commemorative cups and folding tables for the upcoming beach volleyball tournaments, and hired a pressure washer to blast the pier. On the surface, I was the shit.
What I needed to do was run a different checklist, and I felt ready. The loose ends, uneasy feelings, weird meetings, and clues that were either valid or meaningless swirled. I wanted to see it in one place. I cracked the record open to a blank page, dipped and blotted.
A note to eyes to follow. This entry is an effort to distill clarity from smoke. Consider it a factual listing of occurrences and suspicions, not a sign of a solution. Keepers, if you’re reading this, ask for subsequent entries.
What I know:
Gods are not immortal.
Each god and titan has a pursuit to accomplish. When done, they become pure energy.
Four titans left their liaison roles, then Theia achieved her pursuit.
Goddess Hebe also transitioned.
Titans aren’t monolithic, not a single race, but twelve individual developments. It’s not zero-sum.
The titans are acting like teenagers. I believe their development stunted during the stint in Tartarus.
The prophecy outlines immortal cessation, replaced by a worthy party.
Chelsea believes covens will ascend.
Sam doesn’t trust that witches are impartial.
Chelsea and Dionysis couldn’t see the ring the octopus gave me.
Parker and I are changing.
What I suspect:
Vapors needed a full turning.
Chelsea manipulates blend training.
Athena searches for peace, hence the pax floater request. Something’s up at Olympus.
The witches will exert control if a power play arises.
What I need to discover:
What is the origin of octopus glassware?
Will covens honor vows to a human?
Shifters are silent. Haven’t weighed in with an opinion. Why?
What are Keepers becoming?
Chelsea swings between friend and adversary. Is this her combative emotional and logical sides, or another piece of the turn?
Is this prophecy a smoke screen? Should I ignore the immortals and concentrate on the rest? How are the other races maneuvering to meet the moment?
I leaned back and blanked my mind, hoping an idea might float to the top. If being blunt, I didn’t think Chelsea was operating beyond her norm, but the stakes were higher. Athena's attitude was funkier. Lots of encouragement, which was unusual, but my thoughts kept returning to her visit to The Boogey. Why that drink? To me, it signaled extreme unease. Deliberate?
I suppose, if a death believed distant gained urgency, it might do that, but Athena is logical. Yet reacting emotionally? Was that it?
And this ring? Given in public, I’ve worn it, and based on the tingle on my finger, it’s a magical object but unseen. Is it a protection? A weapon?
I bent forward, blotted and wrote:
What is the octopus cup’s origin?
Words rose, and my eyes raced, devouring.
At the time of the great betrayal, when Zeus corralled the Vapors, they seeded corporeal objects throughout the Creation. As portals, each allowed sights and experiences to convey. These were our windows to manage the transition to peace.
“So the cup was a portal? What is its role now?”
A physical doorway for the Keepers. Anyone who bears the ring may pass.
What? Holy shit.
A light tap on the office door interrupted my blown mind. I stashed the record, plume, and inkpot in a blur, and called, “Come in.”
Sam stuck his head in, eyes roaming my small space, and grinned. “You said 2:00. Are we on for the road trip?”
“Yup,” I rose, glad I’d showered this morning. Some days fitting that in was a complex feat. Kinda freaky how I managed the insanity pre-Parker. “Let’s go. I can fit three in my Beetle if you need more seats.”
Sam drove a van stuffed with blends, and I ended up wedging four into my car as we headed out on the forty-minute drive to Cassadaga. Sadie cleared her calendar for this, but I’d envisioned maybe six blends, not the fourteen cruising to face the future.
Sadie blinked, as a coo from Nikos, snoozing in his sling across her chest, earned several smiles from the group. She did a mental count as I joined her on the big porch. “Sorry,” I whispered. “This is a fast moving situation.”
“It’s fine,” Sadie’s hazel eyes roamed over the blends and smiled. “What incredible vibrations.”
She raised her voice. “Welcome. Normally, I read individually, but my sense is you seek collective information.”
Nods and smiles. “Yes Ma’am,” Sam called. “If you can do that, we’d be grateful.”
“Let’s set up a circle in the courtyard,” Sadie announced. “Patra, have them bring out my dining room chairs and grab ones from the porch. In my front closet are two camp chairs if we need them.”
We did. Once we scrooched together under her sweet scented gardenia trees, close enough to grip hands, Sadie eyed the circle. “I read from objects and prefer ones you carry or wear constantly. A cell phone is fine. But you question both a past and a future. My concern is these readings focus on the past because of the object presented. I’m guessing you have nothing representing your time post transition.”
Several of the blend’s faces fell. My pinky vibrated, then burned, as I slapped my hand against the lawn chair’s armrest, yelping in pain.
“Yeeouch!” My ring connected with the metal and shattered. At least, I thought it had. Instead, duplicate rings poured off my finger and rolled, one to each blend.
Sadie reorganized her face and raised an eyebrow. “I’m getting the sense this concern is no longer an issue.”
They picked up their rings, stared at my hand, and slid their new acquisition onto their pinkies. Eyes widened and several looked at me.
“These are magical objects,” I told them. “But they aren’t witch made.”
“No shit,” a woman who rode with me agreed. “This ring is wild.”
“I’m not positive, but I don’t believe witches can see them either. If one comments, please tell me and the others.”
“Cool,” Sam straightened. “We will, Keeper.” Nods bobbed around the circled chairs. “Are we ready?”
Starting to her right and moving counterclockwise, Sadie held the cellphone and the ring of each, reading the objects. Several times, her eyes cut to mine with a look of sheer amazement.
I share the feeling, Sadie. Wild.
“You lead now and create greater power in building a wider coalition,” she told Sam, twirling his ring on her finger. “This creates a firmer foundation.”
“I knew it,” Sam said. “We are our own race.”
Sadie reached over to Sarah, seated next to Sam, and took her phone. “You’ve yearned to discover a path for yourself. The sense of drifting made you uneasy.” Sadie slid her fingers over Sarah’s ring. “The path before you is challenging, but I see you using unrealized talents to communicate a message of unity. Your role is important.”
Each blend listened, hearing old fears of inadequacies and uncertainties raised, and how those strengths added to the unfolding future. I knew they filtered Sadie’s comments through their collective belief of being a new, emerging race.
I strained the explanations through the sieve of prophecy. Those rings, I’d bet my last dollar, let any blend bearing one access a Vapor portal. They now held a key to the escape hatch. My job? Find the rest and ring their pinkies. Until these magical babies learned enough, an unexpected protection materialized.
The unrest and jangles in my gut just leveled up a notch. These blends were the vulnerable future. The Vapor’s plan shifted from opaque to a faint outline.
And the Keeper’s job description, unbeknownst to anyone but me, changed.
Chapter Eighteen
“Patra?” Parks shook my shoulder, and I cracked an eye, staring at an empty inkpot. With a jump, I scanned the desk in horror for a nanosecond, then realized the book was stashed and safe. Whew.
I rubbed my eyes and grimaced. “What time is it?”
“6:30. I just closed The Boogey. Had an interesting chat with several blends, and I’m guessing you did too. Want to compare notes?”
“Coffee,” I croaked. “Let me hit The Boogie’s kitchen first.”
“Already made,” Parker set a steaming cup in front of me. “Milk, no sugar. Cheers.” He lifted his mug containing milk with ridiculous amounts of sugar, and we clinked before I inhaled nirvana, a lifeline, and an attitude adjustment.
I palmed, pulled the record and passed it, watching him read while I woke the fuck up and got my brain gears grinding. After he finished, he blew out a long breath and looked at me.
“Think you need to wash that octopus,” I said, savoring the last sip. “Let’s figure that out first.”
Parks nodded, and we walked back into a messy bar. Blerg. I retrieved the dirty glassware while he pulled the eight armed wonder, lifted it, and eyeballed the depths. Based on Parker’s face, he got a reaction. Broom in hand, I headed in to sweep out the bathrooms, then peeked out to see Parker admiring his shiny silver pinky ring.
“So that aligns,” he muttered. “Damn, this thing has a helluva signature.”
“When it splits to make new rings, it hurts like a mutha.”
“Something to look forward to, I guess. Gotta say, Patra, I did not expect this twist.”
“Me either. It’s illogical. I mean, Creation’s fate is balanced on the babies? Sure, they’re adults, but also total greenies against a magical world who’s relied on lore and dedicated study for tens of centuries.”
“Yeah. But maybe that fresh approach is what’s needed.”
I shrugged. “We’ve always been protectors, but the instruction around these rings is specific.”
“Patra, I want to read that prophecy again.”
“Go ahead. I’ll finish your glassware and the sweeping, and leave you the restocking and mopping.”
Parker raised an eyebrow. We’re tight on cleaning up our own shifts, so this was a departure. And yeah, I’m having a chat with that octopus.
“No portal hopping. Promise?”
“Absolutely not going anywhere.”
“OK, I appreciate the help.” He ducked into the office as I swept the rest of the floor, then nipped behind the bar and double-timed sanitizing the glasses. Octopus held high, it obliged by waving a friendly arm.
Unsure where to begin, I cocked my head. Might as well roll with gratitude. “Thanks for the ring.”
The octopus stretched, patted his own back, and winked.
“The Vapors said it was a portal. If I needed to use it, how does it work?”
The octopus mimed putting the tip of an arm into its beak and drinking.
“OK. Does it matter what’s in the drink?”
The gigantic head blinked and pointed at me. “I’m in the cup? For real? Holy Hades. How many can you save before you’re full?”
Octopus eye rolls are epic.
“So it’s possible to transport eight at once, but you hold an infinite number?”
A nod and a happy little beak click.
“You’ve waited a long time to play your part.”
An eight-armed shrug followed by a wagging tentacle. Great, I’ve just been scolded by a magic cup.
“Yeah, I suppose everybody has. What else should I know? How do we return?”
Another elaborate shrug and a wink. Perfect. Here we go, sailing via dumb luck. I need a new trick.
Parker marched through the office door as I placed the octopus in his spot under the bar.
“What’s got your mind going, Parks?”
“Europe. We’ve located the same number of blends there as in North America.”
Protect Aegeus. I screwed up big-time.
Tethys lifted her drink and took a sip, then a second one. With an oversized and semi dramatic shrug, she downed it, passing it back.
“What a letdown; I don’t feel a damn thing…”
With a fizzing pop, she shot in the air, flitting in uncontrollable directions as both my bars emptied, magicals and humans alike heading for the pier to see the show. Tethys, careening like a New York City parade balloon with the mother of all leaks, zinged across the sky, squealing.
“Wheee!”
A few well-placed elbows got me through to the railing and I climbed up onto the flat top, unknown hands gripping my calves and ankles, sucked in air and screamed, “Tethys!” My arm shot out, finger pointing at the sea.
“OoooKaaay Keeeeeeperrrrrr.” She zoomed by, still traveling over hundreds of freaking humans, and navigated a wobbly turn, using her arms like wings.
“Waahooo!” she zipped toward the horizon as I gripped helping hands to clamber off the rail.
I swear to the gods, these titans are gonna make me old.
“Titan Oceanus, to celebrate our agreement that you will liaise for the world’s armed forces, and present our positions regarding our new alignment as the peacekeeping force of the seas, we bestow these gifts.” The naval admiral appeared, for him, giddy. Negotiating a private titan to be their liaison was a prodigious feat.
Oceanus, standing on the huge pad Poseidon constructed and turned a festive red, beamed. He now held true purpose in this turning. His new job was the war piece Ares ignored, and poking that bear was fun.
His eyes panned the enormous disc, packed with mer, Poseidon, his kid, and a thousand humans. Many were from fishing fleets. The majority, in matching outfits, motored over on small boats from the huge metal naval ships, flying a variety of flags while bobbing around the pad.
“I stand ready to help,” he boomed, accepting a fancy spear decorated with insignias, and a remarkable shell blade from an Australian trumpet lashed to an ancient mahogany ship’s mast. “These are great toys. Thank you.”
Raising both into the air, he crossed them. “Peace above and below the surface. Fairness to everyone. I stand here…”
Tethys, careening ass over elbows, barrelled in on the last dregs of a whirling whisp of mayhem toward the giant red target with a shriek. “I’m running on fumes!”
Poseidon tossed Aegeus to the mer standing beside him, who dove over the side with her safe in his arms as Tethys hit the edge; the impact threw the disc up onto one side and heaved the occupants, tables, and food overboard, the ocean cutting off a chorus of cussing as they splashed in the swells. Oceanus, occupying the opposite end of the pad, sailed overhead, the sun glinting on his spears as he zoomed toward the shore.
“Well, shit.” Tethys said as she bounced. “Not the ending I envisioned.”
Mer, assisting sailors and salvaging the dregs of their party, glowered. Poseidon grabbed Tethys on her third bounce and stepped off the edge, growing until his feet connected with the ocean’s floor.
“We’ll be having a chat,” his soul shaking voice carried to the sailors and mer. “Expect me.”
His great arm extended backward, and he launched a nominally subdued Tethys after her cartwheeling husband.
“Stay on shore.”
“I’m sorrreeeeeey,” reverberated across the water as Tethys flew, shrinking until she vanished from sight.
Poseidon’s face settled into irritation. He gestured to the party as the food, drink, and seating restored, swamped dinghies raised and re-tied to the pad’s edges, and the last of the upended sailors and fishing folk pulled themselves over the disc’s edge.
Two cases of booze flew, landing in each of the sea god’s hands. “Admiral, could I interest you in a tequila? Rounds for everyone?”
Glasses and bottles rose and Poseidon rolled his eyes. “Here’s to the unexpected.”
Oceanus strode through the ocean toward the beach, fuming, as Tethys sailed overhead and flopped with a splat in the waves fifty yards from the pier’s end.
“You are a colossal pain in my ass,” he roared as she got her feet under her and stood to face him. “I was having a moment. Mine alone.”
“I gave you more than 6,000 offspring,” she snapped. “You want to discuss pains in the nethers? I fucking win.”
They glowered, arguing as both bars and the restaurant emptied, again. My profitability was taking a beating; these titanic activities kept drink reorders low. I nudged Charlie. “Grab Gloria and run trays of jello shots out there. Two for $5.”
“On it, Boss.”
As customers slurped rum laced jello and loosened up, I wormed to the far rail, a move I instantly regretted.
“You drive me insane! Why can’t you get it through your thick serpent skull that I need ME time? I’m not here for you, Oceanus. No wait! Even better, I’m here for you as much as you’ve been here for me.”
Oceanus blinked. “But I cherish you, Tethys. The world was brand new, and we changed it with our love. You amazed me; you still do. I thought we did OK.”
The crowd sighed, and Charlie bumped through with two more trays, a thick wad of folded fives jammed between three of his fingers. Glo headed inside to reload. Things were looking up…
I turned back and groaned. Up? As in, way up. Tethys and Oceanus were sucking face like the old pros they were, and his massive dong waved at my customers as they staggered in the surf. Jello shots in multiple hues raised in salute, and the crowd cheered as Charlie caught my eye and grinned.
“It’s ‘on like Donkey Kong’.”
No shit. A celestial bang-fest o’rama, cannoli hiding on an epic–never to be erased from memory–scale.
Cherry on top? Tethy’s a screamer. I need a drink.
Chapter Seventeen
Parker ran The Boogey tonight, but I decided to skip sleep and sat in the office, tired but caught up to a reasonable point. Restaurant orders for the week? Check. Booze and beer? On its way. Payroll? Prepped. Waldo’s due tomorrow, so The Boogey’s stock for the new was on deck. I’d set a deep clean schedule for the next month, ordered commemorative cups and folding tables for the upcoming beach volleyball tournaments, and hired a pressure washer to blast the pier. On the surface, I was the shit.
What I needed to do was run a different checklist, and I felt ready. The loose ends, uneasy feelings, weird meetings, and clues that were either valid or meaningless swirled. I wanted to see it in one place. I cracked the record open to a blank page, dipped and blotted.
A note to eyes to follow. This entry is an effort to distill clarity from smoke. Consider it a factual listing of occurrences and suspicions, not a sign of a solution. Keepers, if you’re reading this, ask for subsequent entries.
What I know:
Gods are not immortal.
Each god and titan has a pursuit to accomplish. When done, they become pure energy.
Four titans left their liaison roles, then Theia achieved her pursuit.
Goddess Hebe also transitioned.
Titans aren’t monolithic, not a single race, but twelve individual developments. It’s not zero-sum.
The titans are acting like teenagers. I believe their development stunted during the stint in Tartarus.
The prophecy outlines immortal cessation, replaced by a worthy party.
Chelsea believes covens will ascend.
Sam doesn’t trust that witches are impartial.
Chelsea and Dionysis couldn’t see the ring the octopus gave me.
Parker and I are changing.
What I suspect:
Vapors needed a full turning.
Chelsea manipulates blend training.
Athena searches for peace, hence the pax floater request. Something’s up at Olympus.
The witches will exert control if a power play arises.
What I need to discover:
What is the origin of octopus glassware?
Will covens honor vows to a human?
Shifters are silent. Haven’t weighed in with an opinion. Why?
What are Keepers becoming?
Chelsea swings between friend and adversary. Is this her combative emotional and logical sides, or another piece of the turn?
Is this prophecy a smoke screen? Should I ignore the immortals and concentrate on the rest? How are the other races maneuvering to meet the moment?
I leaned back and blanked my mind, hoping an idea might float to the top. If being blunt, I didn’t think Chelsea was operating beyond her norm, but the stakes were higher. Athena's attitude was funkier. Lots of encouragement, which was unusual, but my thoughts kept returning to her visit to The Boogey. Why that drink? To me, it signaled extreme unease. Deliberate?
I suppose, if a death believed distant gained urgency, it might do that, but Athena is logical. Yet reacting emotionally? Was that it?
And this ring? Given in public, I’ve worn it, and based on the tingle on my finger, it’s a magical object but unseen. Is it a protection? A weapon?
I bent forward, blotted and wrote:
What is the octopus cup’s origin?
Words rose, and my eyes raced, devouring.
At the time of the great betrayal, when Zeus corralled the Vapors, they seeded corporeal objects throughout the Creation. As portals, each allowed sights and experiences to convey. These were our windows to manage the transition to peace.
“So the cup was a portal? What is its role now?”
A physical doorway for the Keepers. Anyone who bears the ring may pass.
What? Holy shit.
A light tap on the office door interrupted my blown mind. I stashed the record, plume, and inkpot in a blur, and called, “Come in.”
Sam stuck his head in, eyes roaming my small space, and grinned. “You said 2:00. Are we on for the road trip?”
“Yup,” I rose, glad I’d showered this morning. Some days fitting that in was a complex feat. Kinda freaky how I managed the insanity pre-Parker. “Let’s go. I can fit three in my Beetle if you need more seats.”
Sam drove a van stuffed with blends, and I ended up wedging four into my car as we headed out on the forty-minute drive to Cassadaga. Sadie cleared her calendar for this, but I’d envisioned maybe six blends, not the fourteen cruising to face the future.
Sadie blinked, as a coo from Nikos, snoozing in his sling across her chest, earned several smiles from the group. She did a mental count as I joined her on the big porch. “Sorry,” I whispered. “This is a fast moving situation.”
“It’s fine,” Sadie’s hazel eyes roamed over the blends and smiled. “What incredible vibrations.”
She raised her voice. “Welcome. Normally, I read individually, but my sense is you seek collective information.”
Nods and smiles. “Yes Ma’am,” Sam called. “If you can do that, we’d be grateful.”
“Let’s set up a circle in the courtyard,” Sadie announced. “Patra, have them bring out my dining room chairs and grab ones from the porch. In my front closet are two camp chairs if we need them.”
We did. Once we scrooched together under her sweet scented gardenia trees, close enough to grip hands, Sadie eyed the circle. “I read from objects and prefer ones you carry or wear constantly. A cell phone is fine. But you question both a past and a future. My concern is these readings focus on the past because of the object presented. I’m guessing you have nothing representing your time post transition.”
Several of the blend’s faces fell. My pinky vibrated, then burned, as I slapped my hand against the lawn chair’s armrest, yelping in pain.
“Yeeouch!” My ring connected with the metal and shattered. At least, I thought it had. Instead, duplicate rings poured off my finger and rolled, one to each blend.
Sadie reorganized her face and raised an eyebrow. “I’m getting the sense this concern is no longer an issue.”
They picked up their rings, stared at my hand, and slid their new acquisition onto their pinkies. Eyes widened and several looked at me.
“These are magical objects,” I told them. “But they aren’t witch made.”
“No shit,” a woman who rode with me agreed. “This ring is wild.”
“I’m not positive, but I don’t believe witches can see them either. If one comments, please tell me and the others.”
“Cool,” Sam straightened. “We will, Keeper.” Nods bobbed around the circled chairs. “Are we ready?”
Starting to her right and moving counterclockwise, Sadie held the cellphone and the ring of each, reading the objects. Several times, her eyes cut to mine with a look of sheer amazement.
I share the feeling, Sadie. Wild.
“You lead now and create greater power in building a wider coalition,” she told Sam, twirling his ring on her finger. “This creates a firmer foundation.”
“I knew it,” Sam said. “We are our own race.”
Sadie reached over to Sarah, seated next to Sam, and took her phone. “You’ve yearned to discover a path for yourself. The sense of drifting made you uneasy.” Sadie slid her fingers over Sarah’s ring. “The path before you is challenging, but I see you using unrealized talents to communicate a message of unity. Your role is important.”
Each blend listened, hearing old fears of inadequacies and uncertainties raised, and how those strengths added to the unfolding future. I knew they filtered Sadie’s comments through their collective belief of being a new, emerging race.
I strained the explanations through the sieve of prophecy. Those rings, I’d bet my last dollar, let any blend bearing one access a Vapor portal. They now held a key to the escape hatch. My job? Find the rest and ring their pinkies. Until these magical babies learned enough, an unexpected protection materialized.
The unrest and jangles in my gut just leveled up a notch. These blends were the vulnerable future. The Vapor’s plan shifted from opaque to a faint outline.
And the Keeper’s job description, unbeknownst to anyone but me, changed.
Chapter Eighteen
“Patra?” Parks shook my shoulder, and I cracked an eye, staring at an empty inkpot. With a jump, I scanned the desk in horror for a nanosecond, then realized the book was stashed and safe. Whew.
I rubbed my eyes and grimaced. “What time is it?”
“6:30. I just closed The Boogey. Had an interesting chat with several blends, and I’m guessing you did too. Want to compare notes?”
“Coffee,” I croaked. “Let me hit The Boogie’s kitchen first.”
“Already made,” Parker set a steaming cup in front of me. “Milk, no sugar. Cheers.” He lifted his mug containing milk with ridiculous amounts of sugar, and we clinked before I inhaled nirvana, a lifeline, and an attitude adjustment.
I palmed, pulled the record and passed it, watching him read while I woke the fuck up and got my brain gears grinding. After he finished, he blew out a long breath and looked at me.
“Think you need to wash that octopus,” I said, savoring the last sip. “Let’s figure that out first.”
Parks nodded, and we walked back into a messy bar. Blerg. I retrieved the dirty glassware while he pulled the eight armed wonder, lifted it, and eyeballed the depths. Based on Parker’s face, he got a reaction. Broom in hand, I headed in to sweep out the bathrooms, then peeked out to see Parker admiring his shiny silver pinky ring.
“So that aligns,” he muttered. “Damn, this thing has a helluva signature.”
“When it splits to make new rings, it hurts like a mutha.”
“Something to look forward to, I guess. Gotta say, Patra, I did not expect this twist.”
“Me either. It’s illogical. I mean, Creation’s fate is balanced on the babies? Sure, they’re adults, but also total greenies against a magical world who’s relied on lore and dedicated study for tens of centuries.”
“Yeah. But maybe that fresh approach is what’s needed.”
I shrugged. “We’ve always been protectors, but the instruction around these rings is specific.”
“Patra, I want to read that prophecy again.”
“Go ahead. I’ll finish your glassware and the sweeping, and leave you the restocking and mopping.”
Parker raised an eyebrow. We’re tight on cleaning up our own shifts, so this was a departure. And yeah, I’m having a chat with that octopus.
“No portal hopping. Promise?”
“Absolutely not going anywhere.”
“OK, I appreciate the help.” He ducked into the office as I swept the rest of the floor, then nipped behind the bar and double-timed sanitizing the glasses. Octopus held high, it obliged by waving a friendly arm.
Unsure where to begin, I cocked my head. Might as well roll with gratitude. “Thanks for the ring.”
The octopus stretched, patted his own back, and winked.
“The Vapors said it was a portal. If I needed to use it, how does it work?”
The octopus mimed putting the tip of an arm into its beak and drinking.
“OK. Does it matter what’s in the drink?”
The gigantic head blinked and pointed at me. “I’m in the cup? For real? Holy Hades. How many can you save before you’re full?”
Octopus eye rolls are epic.
“So it’s possible to transport eight at once, but you hold an infinite number?”
A nod and a happy little beak click.
“You’ve waited a long time to play your part.”
An eight-armed shrug followed by a wagging tentacle. Great, I’ve just been scolded by a magic cup.
“Yeah, I suppose everybody has. What else should I know? How do we return?”
Another elaborate shrug and a wink. Perfect. Here we go, sailing via dumb luck. I need a new trick.
Parker marched through the office door as I placed the octopus in his spot under the bar.
“What’s got your mind going, Parks?”
“Europe. We’ve located the same number of blends there as in North America.”
