But there was truth in the example he’d pointed out to Sherlock. Frieda was a dark witch; her people were few, and mostly kept to themselves, enough for them to be largely unheard of across Oriceran. Gelbus had studied them in the library, however, and had found that they were not the nicest of people—never extending a helping hand to those who needed it in the northern Dark Forest. One of Gelbus’s old coworkers had said they couldn’t be bothered to piss on you if you were on fire and there was no water in sight.
Frieda shattered that stereotype.
She was more than helpful. Gelbus had seen what she did in Ashbourne, watched her take out anyone who stood in the way of Maria Apple and Ignatius Mangood. He respected her for it. Heck, they had the same reason for being so eager to help them: they were good people who intended to do good.
Gelbus owed the Apples (or Mangoods, depending on what planet you were on). Maria had saved his life.
“So you’ll go?” Frieda asked after a long moment.
Gelbus startled, snapping out of his reverie, and said, “Yes, yes, of course I will. It shall be fun.”
Sherlock barked.
“Okay, we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” Frieda said, and disappeared back down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Maria stuck her head in not thirty seconds after the dark witch had left and threw a zip-up hoodie into the room. It landed on the dog crate with a jangle.
“What’s this?” Gelbus asked, holding it up.
It was bright green, and on the back were ridges like those that ran up Odarth the Bright’s back, except where hers were white, these were yellow. On the front of the hoodie were small arms with long claws embroidered into them.
“You’ll need a disguise,” Maria said. “Can’t have you walking around town and raising questions.” She looked to the Bloodhound and scowled. “No, I’m not going to say he’s an ugly midget, Sherlock. That’s not nice.”
Sherlock whined, but exposed his teeth in a harsh smile.
Gelbus scowled. “See if I let you take me anywhere, you cat lover,” he snapped, and Sherlock’s smile faded. They both stared at each other for a long moment.
Gelbus burst out laughing, and Sherlock bounded over and licked him on the side of the face.
“Gross,” Maria said, “Get a room.”
They both glared at her.
She put her hands up. “Okayyyy, but remember that Sherlock was eating a floor waffle earlier, not to mention the other gross things he eats, and that germy saliva is now all over your face.”
Gelbus said, “Aw, no worries,” then used the hoodie to wipe his face clean.
“Hey, buddy, that’s my hoodie.”
“Hoodie?” Gelbus questioned. In all his studies, he had never come across a ‘hoodie’.
“Yeah, you know what? You can just keep it. It doesn’t fit me well, anyway. Plus it’s a dinosaur face. I already have enough going against me, with this sword on my hip; the dinosaur hoodie isn’t doing me any favors.”
“Dinosaur?”
“Just put it on,” Maria urged.
Gelbus did. First he put it on backward, and wondered why it was so uncomfortable. Maria had to come over and make sure he turned it the right way. She zipped it up after a few failed attempts by Gelbus, and had to cover her mouth to stifle laughter.
“Why are you laughing at me, Maria?” Gelbus asked. He saw that even Sherlock looked livelier. If dogs could laugh, he expected Sherlock would be doing so.
Wiping her eyes, which now leaked tears, Maria urged the Gnome to come into the hall. When he did—albeit, reluctantly—she opened a door, where a long looking glass stretched the length of the wood.
Gelbus saw himself and couldn’t help but laugh with them. The hoodie made it look like he had the body of an upright lizard—or a ‘dinosaur,’ as Maria had called it.
“Wait, wait, put the hood up,” she suggested between snickers.
He did, and then jerked away when he realized that it covered his entire head.
“Now look in the mirror.”
Gelbus did. His laughter grew stronger and louder. Not only did he have the body of a dinosaur, but he now had the face of one as well. An elongated green snout, yellow eyes with a hole cut in the pupils so whoever wore it could see, and jagged teeth on each side of the snout. Oh boy, if the hoodie were white, I’d resemble a much, much smaller version of Odarth.
“Yeah, yeah, he kind of does,” Maria said to Sherlock, and the Bloodhound bared his teeth in that awkward smile again.
Gelbus didn’t even want to know what he had said about him. As silly as he looked, he couldn’t deny that he was comfortable.
“This’ll do just fine,” Maria decided. “People will think you’re a kid in a cool dinosaur hoodie. Just don’t speak; that might ruin the illusion. Your voice is kind of gruff, compared to a youngin’s.”
Gelbus unzipped the hoodie and took in the cool air of the hallway. “So where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet, but we’ll definitely do something fun, and something Ohioan,” Maria answered. “I need to get my mind off of all this recent stuff and unplug.”
“Ohioan? Unplug?”
“Ohio is where we are, and unplug means, like, unwind…let my brain drift, so I don’t have to worry about wars and giant spiders and my dead mother wearing a deceptive jewel around her neck.” She shuddered. “See? I don’t even want to think about it now.”
Gelbus nodded as he absentmindedly patted Sherlock on top of the head. Sherlock loved the attention, and was too afraid to breathe lest Gelbus stop.
“We could go to Low Way,” Maria offered.
Gelbus felt Sherlock’s ears prick up at that.
“The owner, Gary, loves Sherlock like a member of his own family. Even throws him free food. I personally wouldn’t eat from Low Way’s menu, at least not the greasy-type foods, but you know Sherlock;
