“No,” he rasped. “Never.”
“Then you’ll have more strength to carry children out of fires. And more ecstasy when you ejaculate.”
Bruce winced at the graphic image that came to mind. My ejaculations are fine.
“But they could be more.”
Hell, the guy definitely knew how to tempt him. No one needed more—not in the way the fairy described—but Bruce sure as hell wanted it. Big, powerful guys had the advantage in firefighting. It was simple physics. And who didn’t want bigger and better O’s?
All I care about now is Laddin.
“Then take more power to help him. Because the earth sprites are angry.” The bunny eyes narrowed as he gazed into the distance.
What are they doing to Laddin?
“He should have bargained more carefully.”
What—?
But it was too late. Prince Hop-Along was gone.
Chapter 15
SMALL PRINT? WHAT SMALL PRINT?
BRUCE TRIPPED on something. The ground was uneven, and he’d been paying attention to Laddin, not where he planted his feet. But he could see Laddin now. The guy was fully human and leaning against the tree that was their destination. Bruce couldn’t see the fairies, but he knew they were there. Especially since his last glimpse of Laddin had shown the man talking. That might have been reassuring… if there hadn’t been a wildness in his eyes.
Suddenly Bruce face-planted with a grunt, banging up his head, getting dirt in his burns, and making for a very noisy entrance. He couldn’t even hear what Laddin was saying over his thundering pulse and his desperate gasps for air. He’d run here full-tilt after fighting a barn fire, and he was done. It was barely five minutes past dawn, and already his adrenaline stores were gone.
He meant to push himself to get up, but instead he breathed in dirt while the apple shimmered just in front of his mouth. All he’d have to do was roll forward and take a big ol’ bite.
He didn’t, but he was salivating for sure. By the time he got enough energy to push himself to his feet, he was surrounded by angry-looking cheeses.
Great. There was no way he’d be able to leap in and drag Laddin to safety now. Bruce took a moment more to catch his breath and slow his heart rate. And then, finally, he could hear what Laddin was saying.
“…three inches deep. C-4 is the easiest, but raw gunpowder will serve as well. The fuse should be….”
WTF? Bruce pushed forward, barely managing to avoid stepping on a militant-looking provolone. “Why is he talking about explosives?” He directed his question to the Grand Cheesy, whose name he couldn’t really remember. The fairy stood in front of Laddin with his arms crossed and his head cocked to the side. And hell, now that Bruce was breathing more normally, the smell hit him. It wasn’t a big concern right now, but he didn’t want to start gagging at a key moment.
The grand whomever turned and gave him a bow. Laddin was still talking about fuse types in a steady though desperate voice. “I greet you, Farting Friend,” said the Cheesy.
“I’m not—” He almost said a friend but realized that would be antagonistic, so he quickly adjusted his words. “—farting for you.”
“What the hell?” He heard Josh’s voice; then his brother stumbled forward. Bruce had been so focused on catching up to Laddin that he hadn’t realized he’d been followed. Josh had arrived. His brother could always run fast, though he too was obviously winded. Behind him was Bing, running silently through the field. And much farther back were Yordan and Nero. Bruce could see they wouldn’t be able to help. The fairy cheeses were already marshaling a perimeter. Josh was being cordoned off by string cheese, and though Bing might not see it yet, they were preparing to launch some kind of hard white cheese boulders at him from the slingshot they’d used the day before.
“Stay back,” Bruce ordered. “The American slices will suffocate you, the string cheese is like steel, and I think the blue cheese is poisonous.”
He watched as Bing nodded and slowed, pointing to his mouth before gesturing back at Yordan and Nero. Bruce guessed his gesture meant he’d tell the other two. Meanwhile Josh was frowning at Laddin. “Why is he talking explosives?”
“—det cord. That’s a thin, flexible plastic tube filled with pentaerythritol tetranitrate—”
“Quiet,” ordered a voice near Josh. “You do not have leave to speak!” It was a fairy made of crumbly cheese with blue streaks in it, with stilts for legs. As soon as it came near, Josh started gagging on the stench. Bruce held back his choking, but only because he was upwind.
“Stilton!” the Cheesy ordered. “Stand guard!”
“Aye-aye, Cheesy!” the stinky cheese answered with a salute.
Meanwhile, Laddin kept talking while his eyes rolled around in their sockets as if he was searching desperately for something.
Trying to keep his voice calm, Bruce spoke as respectfully as possible. “What have you done to Laddin? Why is he talking like that?”
“He broke our bargain.”
Yeah, Bruce already knew, but he tried for logic. “He came here. He was going to tell you what he’d learned.”
“He promised answers at dawn. He broke that promise.” The Cheesy folded his moldy arms. “So he gives answers now. All of them.” The cheese grinned. “Until I say stop.”
“And when will you say stop?”
The Cheesy didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Nero had come up behind Josh, and he rasped out the answer. “He won’t say stop until the victim dies. No food, no water, no rest. Just endless talking.”
Bruce turned around and stared at the cheese. “Until Laddin….” He couldn’t say the word dies.
“Yes. Unless we negotiate something different.”
It took a moment for Bruce to absorb that, but he always thought clearly in a crisis. That meant that he’d have to do the negotiating, even though he had no freaking clue how to do it. “Not we,” he said to Nero. “Me. I’m their… friend.” He turned back to the Cheesy. “Right? You and me, we can discuss this.”
Thankfully, no one scoffed
