The lion yawned, showing yellow fangs the length of my finger. “You seem awfully pathetic, though, too pathetic to eat. If I see you in this state for much longer, I might be ill. Run around and look industrious for a few minutes.” The lion shrugged to pull at the tether, and its stake popped out of the ground.
I strode toward the lion, but Pil clung to me, as solid as a box of horseshoes. I ended up striding only one step, and I appeared less bold than I might have. “Hello, Floppy-Ass. I like you better as a dog. To be honest, you seem a little effeminate as a cat.”
The lion’s ears flicked forward. “Floppy-Ass? It doesn’t exactly bewitch me.”
Halla had shifted to one side, her spear relaxed in her hands. The oracle was on his feet and had crammed himself as far as possible into the corner, goggling at the lion.
Floppy-Ass bounded onto a box four feet in front of me and sat on his haunches. “Did you adore breakfast?”
Halla said, “Bib’s wife could cook better. With a stick and a bowl of dirt.”
“I labored over that breakfast! The Symphony of Irredeemable Beasts! I toiled, although I’m sure you didn’t deserve it.”
I tugged at Pil again, but she hung onto my sword arm.
Floppy-Ass rumbled a growl that would force any human being’s sphincters to slam shut. Then he lifted his head, squeezed his eyes tight, and scrunched up his nose. A sneeze shot out of him, echoing off the tent walls and spraying me with lion snot. Another sneeze followed, and a third right after that. The lion shook its head, glanced left and right, and wandered back toward its spot across the tent.
The oracle was panting. “I didn’t foresee that.” He strolled around the boxes and bags toward the center of the tent.
Halla raised a hand. “Do not be concerned, oracle. The creature could have already killed you if it wanted to.”
I added, “We’d be wading in your entrails.”
The oracle hit the tent flap at a run and burst outside.
Halla scowled at me and sprinted after the young man.
I dragged at Pil with both hands until I got her half scrambling alongside me. When we pushed outside, I saw that the oracle had run only twenty paces before Halla caught him. She held him up by the back of the collar and the left arm. I dragged Pil ten steps before she seized my leg with both arms and hauled me to one knee.
The other lion ran out of the tent. “I chose to change bodies! That other lion was uncomfortable. She probably had a plague or a blight. I wouldn’t be surprised if you all drop dead!”
I glanced around to see whether things could get any crazier. My gaze locked onto Whistler and Bea. They stood together motionless, gaping at the chaos.
Halla eased the oracle down but held on.
Floppy-Ass harrumphed. “If I were you, which is a repellent thought, I would devote my energy to being as interesting as possible. Yes, I would pursue that with greatest industry if I wanted to enjoy even—” Floppy-Ass sneezed twice. The second sneeze made my ears ring. Then the lion collapsed onto the ground, grunted, clambered back to its feet, and waddled away, head low.
I pulled Pil and myself to our feet and glared at the oracle. “Do you have any more lions in there? Or venomous serpents?”
The oracle gazed at the tent flap blankly and shook his head. “No. I was going to buy a horse. To feed the lions.”
A man’s voice from behind me said, “You’d be fortunate to be slain by a viper! You should pray for it, really.”
Everybody turned around. At least eighty corpses had stood up and were trudging toward us without a bobble. A few heads had been smashed, probably by those horrible pigs. Two corpses dragged their guts behind them.
The closest corpse stared right at me. “I hate lions, anyway! Did you know that? My famous hatred of lions dates back—”
Two dozen corpses behind him collapsed like empty sacks.
The blabbering corpse looked around. “Krak damn it with piles and iron rods! You should not take any of this as a sign of weakness!”
Several dozen more corpses flopped down.
“Well, shit.” The rest of the bodies, including the cursing one, crumpled.
Halla scanned the open ground and the twice-killed corpses. “Perhaps if we wait here, our enemy will destroy himself and we can go home. Or at least go away from here.”
“Son of a bitch!” Whistler shouted, rubbing his neck.
Bea squeaked, “Ow! Ow!”
A big red wasp landed on me and stung me on the right nipple. “Weasel-humping, greasy-ass crotch of Lutigan on fire!”
“Back in the tent!” Halla was already running when she said it, hauling the oracle behind. Beyond her I saw a little cloud of black dots flying toward us, and in five seconds, it grew twice as big.
I began pulling white bands with one hand as another wasp stung me on the elbow. I thought I might convince these bugs that stinging us to death would be less fun than doing any other thing at all. Before I did much in the way of magic, though, every single hornet dropped out of the air. The ones that hit the ground near me walked around wobbly.
I didn’t know whether to stand my ground, run inside the tent, or find a fast horse. I let the white bands fall away, the power lost. I drew my sword for no good reason except that I couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Halla, come on out here. Maybe some wagon will roll toward us, set itself afire, and burn up before it runs us over.”
The oracle strained against Halla, which was like trying to pull his arm out of a shark’s mouth. “You may as well release me!” the oracle shouted. Halla lifted the young man partway off the ground as he yelled, “I won’t tell you anything now!”
“Come on,” I said. “After
