“Good, now never let me see your face again, because the next time, I do, I will kill you,” Maria said. She stood up shakily. Had she not been drained of all energy, she would’ve slain him right then and there.
The man of the mountain threw his head back in laughter, and he lifted his staff. The air shimmered and lit with flame. Sherlock appeared out of nowhere. Maria rushed to him. She petted him, but he didn’t wake up. With her right arm, she set his head into her lap. “Sherlock! Sherlock!”
No response.
The tears were back—had they really ever left?—and she hugged him close and tight, thinking the man of the mountain had lied, and who was she to trust a dark conjurer of such cheap tricks, anyway?
“Sherlock, wake up, please. If you wake up, I’ll round up all the Gnomes and Raffins and dead squirrels and trash ice cream that I can find, and you can eat until you pop or pass out.”
His eyes fluttered and opened. Tongue snapping back into his mouth, he said, What? Did I dream that? Or—
“Sherlock!” Maria hugged him again, tighter this time.
Oh, no…
Sherlock passed gas loud enough to echo off the cave’s walls.
Sorry about that.
“You know, I don’t even care. You can do that all you want.”
Really?
“No, please don’t.”
I heard it! That’s, like, a legally binding verbal contract.
“Maybe on Earth, but we’re on Oriceran. I don’t think the same rules apply here, buddy.”
Sherlock rolled over onto his feet and shook himself out. Drool flew in all directions, some even splashing onto Maria’s face, but Maria didn’t care. She was just glad that Sherlock was okay.
The man of the mountain was gone; so were his throne, his staff, and his terrible laughter. What took his place was not the pinprick of light. No. The pinprick had changed into a doorway. Maria and Sherlock walked toward it. As they got closer, they could smell the outside world, the clean, crisp air, the leaves, the trees, the dirt, and the rocks. No longer did the cold and damp sink into their bones.
“Don’t go running off yet,” Maria said.
Oh, I’ve learned my lesson, Sherlock replied.
“Whoa, that’s a first. Never thought I’d hear you say you learned a lesson. ‘Can’t teach an old dog new tricks,’ and all that.”
You can if you get kidnapped by some weirdo with a penis-shaped stick, like some kind of unsettling Gandalf.
“A penis? Did it really look like that? I couldn’t tell.”
Eh, maybe.
Maria laughed. “Ah, good ol’ Sherlock.”
They reached the opening and saw another white tree nearby. This one was full of leaves; it didn’t appear that even one had fallen off yet. They were a crisp and vibrant red, standing out starkly against the backdrop of the blue sky.
Can you see the town from here? Sherlock asked.
Maria was climbing up a boulder, trying to get a better look. She wasn’t having much luck. “No,” she answered. “Just more mountain. We’ve got a bit of a journey before we’re there.”
Let’s go.
“Nuh-uh, buddy. Gotta wait for Gramps and Frieda. Believe me, I want nothing more than to get to that town and save those people if they need saving, but we are a crew. We can’t go at it alone. It took almost losing you for me to realize that, and I’m not going to let that happen again.”
But Sherlock wasn’t listening. He was pacing back and forth, his head on a swivel, tail between his legs.
How do you know they didn’t get hurt or something in there? he said. Oh, God, Maria, what if they’re captured like I was? Who’s gonna feed me!?
“They’re not.”
How do you know?
“I just do.”
He eyed her warily, but Maria didn’t give him any reason to not believe her by her expression.
She sat down and patted the spot next to her. “Come here, boy. We have to wait. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Sherlock padded over, his tail finally gaining momentum and swinging wildly. It was hard for him to resist Maria’s invitations because—even though deep down he knew there wasn’t—the animalistic part of his mind thought there were always treats involved whenever he was a ‘good boy.’
Sherlock lay down, curling his body into a ball, while Maria leaned against the rock and stroked the Bloodhound’s back. Sherlock even set his head down on her thigh and looked up at her with pure love and admiration.
She slipped him a treat.
The wind blew, and soon they both drifted off to sleep while they waited for Ignatius and Freida. Lord knew they needed it.
Chapter Fourteen
On Oriceran, the quest was in full swing. Maria was battling her way through the Trials of Antenele, while Freida and Ignatius made their way through the Cave of Delusion, seeing their own personal ghosts and demons. Yet, despite Ignatius’s injury, he remained strong, and he eventually led Freida toward that pinprick of light at the other side of the mountain.
But Lois didn’t know any of this.
On Earth, the hours grew later. Lois, the Muffler twins—in all their oddness, she still found their company comforting—Agnes, and Salem played 500 Rummy deep into the night, until the sun began to purple the dark sky. She did not feel tired, though she kept taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes, thinking about Earl. It sucked to leave him, but she had to do what she had to do, and they had both known that this task given to her from Lacey Trader was not going to be an easy one.
Near six in the morning, the laughter died down. Salem got up and gathered everyone’s empty containers of ice cream to throw in the trashcan. Lois had nearly drowned herself in the buckeye flavor; one of the few things she missed about the Midwest, besides the people.
She stood up.
“I’m gonna go look for him. I can’t wait anymore. I gotta husband at home, and Patsy manning my PDA line; she’s probably a trainwreck, now.”
Agnes got up, too, and put her
