Helen and Troy's Epic Road Quest (29 page)

Franklin sat in the shadow of the Gray Mountain, beside the Mound of Unworthy Bones, beneath the Cruel Skies. He'd been there a while, though time was meaningless with no days or nights to measure it, no hunger in his spirit body, nothing to do but sit by a cooler of cheap beers and drink.

Fortunately the cooler never seemed to empty, and the beer was cold enough. He was technically allowed only one, but he found he didn't care so much about rules now that he was dead. While the endless day had given him a bit of a sunburn, he was in no hurry. He was happy to relish the moment.

He'd made it.

The ground rumbled as Grog came burning down the Gray Mountain on his roaring motorcycle. The five-headed god revved the engine a few times before killing it. Silence swept the planes.

“Hi.” Franklin smiled. He'd been smiling for what felt like weeks now. “Want a beer?”

Grog waved it away. “Sorry, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. I kept putting off getting to you until a convenient time came along. Then I forgot about you. Then I remembered, but…long story. Shall we get this over with?”

“So I did it?” asked Franklin. “I'm an orc now? All the way?”

Grog nodded. “All the way. Some of the other gods fought me over your soul, but I convinced them to back off. We don't often come across jurisdiction conflict such as yourself, but I said you'd earned this through deed and spirit. It took some arguing, but at the end of the day, I explained that you were on the verge of living godhood when you were stabbed in the back by your best friend. If that isn't an orc-worthy death, I don't know what is.” A giant ax materialized in his hands. “Are you ready to take your place upon the mound?”

Franklin tossed away his beer and raised his fists. He still couldn't stop grinning.

The orc god lowered his weapon. “Some of the other gods did have a question, though. Me too.”

It pleased Franklin to think of gods talking about him. In the cosmic scheme, he knew he amounted to little more than a speck. But at least he was a speck the gods had noticed, if only for a moment. It was more than he could've reasonably expected.

“Why'd you put on the helmet?” asked Grog.

Franklin lowered his fists. “Funny. I'm not really sure. I guess it just came down to having to try it.”

“But how did you know it would work?”

“I didn't. But I figured, best-case scenario, I get to be a living god for a little while. Worst case, I get a snazzy new helmet.”

“So you weren't trying to sacrifice yourself for the greater good?”

Franklin shrugged. “Nope. Just couldn't resist the opportunity.”

Grog threw back his heads and laughed. The terrible din darkened the Cruel Skies. Four of his heads continued to chuckle as the fifth appraised Franklin.

“You're all right.”

“Thanks.”

Grog raised his mighty ax. Franklin couldn't escape the strike, but he thought if he timed a forward roll just right, the blood spatter from his corpse might stain Grog's boots. It was worth a shot. He leaped forward, but the ax blow never came.

He found himself staring up at the massive god, who was still holding his ax as if to strike.

“Is there a problem?” asked Franklin.

Grog propped his weapon over his shoulder. “Do you play bridge?”

“I used to, though I'm a bit rusty.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Sure. If you need me to. Why?”

Grog said, “The other gods have a regular tournament. They always invite me, but they know I don't know how to play.”

“Why don't you ask them to teach you?”

“Oh, they'd love that, a chance to teach the savage orc god how to play cards. Smug bastards, every last one of them.”

It was Franklin's turn to laugh.

“What?”

“I just didn't expect you to be so insecure.”

Grog ground his teeth together. “Let me tell you, it's not easy being a god of the orcs.”

“I can imagine. Yes, I can teach you, but isn't it against the rules to not obliterate me and throw my bones on the pile?”

“I make the rules, so who is going to argue? Also, you're friends with Nigel Godkiller, and I'm not so sure I want to mess with that guy. I can always pencil you in tomorrow, though that's shuffleboard Tuesday. Ever play?”

“I won a tournament on a cruise. I'd show you my trophy, but it's back on the material plane.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

Grog climbed on his terrifying cycle. He revved the engine until Franklin thought his entire body would disintegrate. He noticed his own motorcycle, or at least the spirit equivalent, sitting beside Grog's own.

Franklin mounted his own iron steed. Its familiar rumble vibrated comfortingly. His soul and the god roared up the Gray Mountain. Franklin inhaled deeply, choking on the thick clouds of exhaust belched from Grog's terrible machine.

It smelled good.

Helen had worn a dress maybe three times in her life. She had nothing against them, but jeans were just so much easier. She twirled in front of her mirror. The red skirt swirled, and she had to admit she liked the way it looked. She was still a jeans girl, but sometimes it was nice to just feel pretty.

She turned to Achilles, sitting on her bed.

“What do you think?”

He wagged his tail. It'd been a week since they'd completed their quest, and if he was a god or helpful spirit in disguise, he had shown no signs of dropping the act. She doubted she'd ever be completely convinced there wasn't something supernatural about the dog, but it didn't matter. He'd earned his kibble and then some.

Her brother stuck his head in the doorway. “Hey, they're waiting.”

“It's polite to knock,” she said.

Will rapped on the door with his knuckles. “Everybody's waiting.”

“Thanks. I'll be right down.”

He looked her up and down.

“That's your cue to leave, squirt,” she said, feeling self-conscious.

“You look good, Helen,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He pursed his lips and made kissing noises. “You're welcome.”

She threw a brush at him, but he ducked behind the door.

She did look good. She might be taller than other girls. Hairier. But the benefit to all that fur was that she didn't have to worry about makeup, and shaving her legs would've been kind of weird. Not that it wasn't kind of weird already, when she thought about it.

She might not be the petite flower the world expected her to be, but that was the world's problem. She adjusted her breasts, ran a brush through her hair one last time, and drew in a deep breath. She'd battled a dragon, a cyclops, and a cannibal witch. She'd fought a god for the fate of Utah, Wyoming, and greater Idaho.

But tonight, things were getting serious.

She and Achilles walked downstairs. She'd imagined everyone gazing up at her as she descended, but they were all in the living room, talking. Helen paused to listen.

She heard Troy. “—Then, and I swear to the gods above, I was positive she was going to drive that dagger right through my heart.”

Her mom and dad laughed.

“She almost killed you?” asked Will. “And now you're going out on a date with her?”

Troy said, “Guess you had to be there.”

Helen glanced at him from the alcove. She didn't know how it was possible, but he was even more handsome than before. He wore a button-up shirt, black slacks, green-and-blue sneakers that would've looked hipster on anyone else. But damned if he didn't make it work.

“Sounds like you had quite an adventure,” said Roxanne.

“I'm not going to lie,” he replied. “There were some dark moments, but it all worked out in the end. I never would've discovered how wonderful your daughter is without this trip. She's very special.”

Helen suddenly felt guilty for eavesdropping. She stepped into view and cleared her throat. All heads turned toward her.

“Oh, Helen.” Roxanne wrapped Helen in a tight hug. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Troy looked at her and smiled. Smiling wasn't unusual for him, but this one seemed special. As if it was one he'd been saving just for her.

She dreaded the conversation that was bound to happen now. She loved her family, but she wanted this over with. Troy came to her rescue.

He scratched Achilles behind the ears. “We better get going if we want to make the movie.”

They bid hasty good-byes, though Roxanne insisted on several more hugs. She started crying too, though she did her best to keep it under control.

“You take good care of my little girl,” she told Troy.

He promised he would. She insisted he call her Roxanne. Then demanded a few quick photographs. It took them five more minutes to finally walk out the front door. Helen's family watched them walk away until her dad, mercifully, shooed them back inside and shut the door.

“Well, that was awkward,” said Helen.

“They're cute. I can see why you turned out so great.” Troy took her hand. “You do look beautiful, y'know.”

“Thanks.”

“You're supposed to tell me I look good,” he added.

“You always look good.”

“Doesn't mean I don't like to hear it every so often.”

She tousled his hair. “I had no idea you were so insecure.”

“I have my moments.”

She caught Roxanne watching them from slightly parted curtains.

“What movie are we seeing?” asked Helen.

“I made that up. I figured you'd want to end the awkward family-meeting-your-boyfriend stage as quickly as possible.”

“My hero. Though I think it's a bit premature to say you're my boyfriend. This is our first date.”

He winked at her and smiled. He could get away with anything with that smile.

“Hel, I forgot to ask you. Did you ever find a use for that key the fates gave you?”

She opened her handbag and showed him the old key. “I think getting me to walk into that castle was its purpose. Or maybe not. Maybe it was something they gave me with no purpose other than what I'd make of it. I'm not so sure the fates know what the hell they're doing, but nobody dares call them on it because they don't want to take the chance.”

“It's a thought,” he said.

“But they never said when it would come in handy. Maybe there's a door somewhere down the road waiting to be opened. For now, I think of it as my good-luck charm.”

They leaned in and kissed, softly. Nothing very passionate, but sweet and wonderful.

“Thanks for almost destroying three states for me, Hel.”

“Don't mention it, Troy.”

She tossed the key away, where it was lost in the grass of the next lawn over. He raised an eyebrow.

“Who needs the fates?” she said. “I'll make my own luck from now on.”

The next day she'd spend the better part of an afternoon looking for it. Optimism was great, but it never hurt to have a little help from the universe now and then.

Troy grinned at her.

“I think I love you, Hel.”

She winked.

“I bet you say that to all the girls with tails.”