He holds an arm out, and I step in, enjoying the closeness as he pulls me closer still, and I wrap an arm around his trim waist.
Darkness and disorientation claim me in an instant, but I swallow down a scream this time. I’m becoming a real professional.
My world brightens seconds later and… I’m in Harpoc’s arms gliding over a sea of red roofs, the only punctuation, a domed mosque and those towers with speakers calling the faithful to prayer.
Where in the world…?
I glance up at Harpoc. “I thought we were only ‘tripping.’” I chuckle.
A corner of his mouth hitches despite his eyes being focused beyond the edge of town where an enormous rough rock outcropping looks oddly out of place, the only hulking landmark for miles, and beyond that, open fields of green.
Curiosity nibbles at me, and I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm my roiling stomach as I squint, but I can’t quite make out what crop is growing.
Harpoc beats his wings, and we soar past the town, then glide ever lower. Something particularly foul smelling sets my nose reeling, and it’s only getting worse the closer we get to the ground. It reminds me of skunk.
He touches down near the edge of one of those rolling fields and stands me up, and I take one look at the field to the left and know exactly what I’ve been smelling. There’s something distinctive about that seven-part leaf that while I’ve never tried the stuff, anyone alive recognizes.
“Harpoc, what—” I try keeping my voice a whisper. “—why?”
“It’s King of Roses,” he whispers back.
What is he getting us into? My breathing labors. “Are you a drug dealer?” I’ve known he’s dangerous, but I never once pictured this.
He looks into my eyes. “This isn’t a government sanctioned grower so the owner may not appreciate my presence. I need you to do exactly what I say, when I say it. Can you do that for me?”
Not government sanctioned. As in illegal?
Somehow that does nothing to calm me. Whatever the relationship between Harpoc and this grower, it doesn’t sound good, because otherwise, why the pseudonyms and the need to follow his lead to the tee? My spidey senses are tingling. Things smell wrong, and it’s more than the stench of cannabis.
“King of Roses…” The title still sounds stupid. “… what does this have to do with King Midas?”
“Everything and nothing.”
I roll my eyes. More riddles.
An ominous feeling floods every fiber of my being, and I shift from one foot to the other. Government sanctioned or not, it feels like I’m about to be part of a drug deal, or worse, going down in some foreign Muslim country. How many years in prison will this earn if law enforcement happens to drop by because I can’t imagine a Muslim country condoning anything weed related. I pray I’m wrong.
I’ve fantasized about being a bad girl a time or two, who hasn’t, but I’ve never acted on it. I laugh to myself, yeah, me, a bad girl. That’s funny.
“King Rose,” I whisper, chuckling inside—this manly man’s flower honorific amuses me. “You smoke weed?”
“I enjoy the euphoria, but the side effects dull my senses, so I don’t indulge often. You?”
I laugh out loud. “Never.”
A corner of Harpoc’s mouth hitches up.
“You figured, huh?”
His beautiful eyes dance.
I’ve been only a boring, brown-nosing, archeological weenie.
Somehow the thought doesn’t sit right.
Where’s it gotten me? Unemployed, that’s where.
You’re a proud weenie, Pell, the proudest, my inner voice validates me.
Yeah, unemployed. I can’t escape the facts. I’ve played it safe my entire life thinking it’ll get me ahead, but it hasn’t.
I gaze over the countryside, weed swaying in the gentle breeze. I’m unemployed even though I discovered the find of the century. I barely staunch a growl. It sucks royally, and I’m sick of it.
It’s time for a change. It’s time to stop playing it safe. It’s time to start living.
Pell, you are living; being reckless is just dangerous.
I ignore the voice in my head and lean in to hear Harpoc whisper in my ear. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” His voice is firm.
I’ve no idea what’s about to go down, but somehow I believe him.
No, Pell, you’ve no idea who he is. Don’t do something brash you’ll regret.
Oh, but I am so ready, no, I’m beyond ready, to be carefree.
Harpoc’s been only protective of me since I met him, and the commitment I sense in his voice tells me my trust is not misplaced, regardless of who I discover he is. I know I’m rationalizing, but hey.
Pell… my inner voice rises.
Shush, I tell myself.
“Some secrets cost more to keep than others,” Harpoc says.
I look over at him unsure why he said that. It doesn’t matter. I’m going with the flow… on steroids. I’m ready for an adventure. Weed and Midas. Midas and weed. Golden euphoria. I laugh to myself. Bring it on.
I refocus. “So you’re what, some secret-keeping vigilante working on behalf of…” I wave my hands making something up. “… the Greater Galaxy Secrecy Federation to make sure everyone…”
Harpoc smiles. “Everyone…?”
I furrow my brow. “What’s even involved in keeping a secret anyway? You got a badge and a secret handshake?”
He laughs. “Watch and learn, Rose. Watch and learn.” With that he takes my hand, turns me around, and we head into a field of plants taller than me, down a dirt path between the rows.
I feel amazing. I feel free. I’m riding high on adventure, probably on the overwhelming scent surrounding us too, but whatever.
After a good amount of tromping through the crop, we emerge near a wooden shack
