Cloaks

Chapter 17: Pee and Glitter

"MANTICORE!" Malakos's voice boomed out, magically magnified. "I'VE COME TO PARLAY!"

At the other end of the cavern, the great beast shifted in the dark. Its leathery wing lowered to reveal a human-like face—that is, if human faces burned with primordial malevolence and held a hundred razor teeth in their mouths.

It blinked in the darkness. "And what business," it drawled lazily, a predator in full power of the situation, "would I have with a mouse?"

"I come on behalf of a certain syndicate," Malakos continued.

"And...your companions? The ones I can smell hidden in the tunnels, preparing to stab me in the back?"

"I shouldn't think that a creature of your cunning would be interested in working with anyone unwise enough to approach you without insurance."

"I have no interest in working with those who would betray me, either."

Malakos glanced back. Deruque and Bardy, having been discovered, were peeking at him. He nodded them forward.

"If this suits your preferences?" Malakos asked, the rest of the party joining him at the mouth of the manticore's den.

The manticore said nothing, so Malakos continued.

"As I was saying, we come on behalf of a certain syndicate, who will soon be upsetting the balance of power in the nearby kingdom of Whispenshire. I would like to offer you the opportunity to profit from the situation."

"Oh?" It had started moving toward them. Malakos fought every primal instinct to run. Deruque placed his hand on his rapier. Bardy prepared to light his torch.

"Come join our fight. We can offer you some prime hunting grounds south of the kingdom, should you prove your worth in the effort. I can't imagine these rocky mountains offer much for a distinguished palate."

"I have what I need." The manticore had stopped in the middle of the cavern and stretched out, flexing its claws and sharpening them against the stone floor as it drew itself back into sitting position. "I have shelter here, and when I grow hungry, I hunt some of the small creatures that live in the town."

Bardy shuddered. The bones they had followed--

"What else can you offer me?"

Malakos balked. "We...we would have to consult with our leader first."

"Do that," the manticore said. "And convey my offer—I will follow you, win your war for you, and then I will claim the kingdom as mine; and you may live there. Hm?"

The party backed away until they were certain they were out of earshot. This had not gone as planned.

"Please?" Bardy asked.

"Wait—just--just wait. Maybe we can counteroffer--"

"That thing is evil," Deruque argued. "You can practically smell it!"

"You smell evil too, Deruque," Malakos griped. "Bathing wouldn't kill you, you know."

"Malakos," Bardy hissed, "we recruit that thing and it will look for the first chance to betray us. Not to mention that it isn't exactly good for a kingdom to have a bloodthirsty manticore as a neighbor. You want to look out for the troops and the people of Whispenshire? That guy is not the answer. I say we kill it, and you can always just send grandaddy Mephistopheles the ol' 'for the greater good' excuse."

"I told you, I don't report directly to him--"

"But we kill it. Majority rules, Malakos."

Malakos stalled. "W-well, not all of the majority is present. Ruby's away, so..."