The Shady Adventures of Fabian

Chapter 23

They had managed to make it most of the way back around the swamp when Fabian noticed he was still quite tired and consequently having some trouble with his sense of direction. He decided to call a halt for the night. They'd been miniaturized for this long, he figured a few more hours wouldn't make a difference.

He found a large fern that offered almost complete concealment and, feeling in a generous mood, decided no watch was needed and let Brandon lay down for some sleep as well. The ground was covered in fallen leaves that made for a reasonably soft bedding. Even better, Fabian's nose detected the scent of some potent dreamweed growing near the base of the bush. He gathered as much of it as he could stuff into his pockets. He intended to enjoy some of it later himself, and he figured he could fetch a decent price for it back in town. If that stupid kobold could filch suckers for seven shillings, surely a genius such as himself could get at least ten shillings.

He pulled out the clay pipe he had stolen from that dirty woman's room and started to load it with dreamweed. He thought about maybe taking a couple puffs, but decided he was too sleepy to fully enjoy it at the moment and put it back in his pocket for later.

Brandon was already snoring loudly by the time Fabian laid down. Fabian made sure to keep a good distance away. How old was this kid anyway? Fourteen or something? Fabian thought it a little creepy to sleep in too close of proximity to the boy. Societal norms rarely crossed his mind much, but even he had to draw the line somewhere.

Fabian was out like a light before he had even quite realized that he had closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, sunlight was poking through the branches. Near as he could tell, he had gotten a solid six hours of sleep. He picked himself up and walked over to where Brandon lay still sound asleep on the ground.

"Stop being lazy and wake up," Fabian said as he gave him a solid kick to the ribs.

"Just five more minutes, ma," Brandon gurgled and started to snore again.

"I'm not joking around here, Scrote, it's time to get up." Fabian began tapping him repeatedly on the head with a stick.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Brandon said, stifling a yawn as he sat up.

"I could have just left you here and gotten the magical cure myself, but lucky for you, I'm a nice guy," Fabian said. "As it stands, you've made me wait entirely too long for you to wake your lazy ass up. My time is precious and I won't stand for it. You definitely owe me big time for this on top of all the other things you already owe me for. I say you hand over to me one hundred percent of any treasure you find on the course of our quest and I'll consider calling us even."

"You'll really consider it, sir?"

"I promise I'll give it a passing thought. Now come on. Time's wasting."

It took a couple hours before they were able to locate the dryad again. Brandon actually first heard her singing in the distance, but Fabian refused to give him any credit for that.

"Oh, hello, cutie," the dryad said when she spotted Brandon. "You've returned!"

"Indeed I have," Fabian said as he pushed his way forward. "I have all your ingredients you required. Now chop chop with the spell casting."

"The disenchantment spell I know actually makes a magical elixir, which you must ingest. Are you in possession of a vial in which I can pour the liquid mixture?"

"For the love of Balthazaar, you didn't say anything about a vial. Do you think I just walk around with empty vials for magical elixirs in my pocket?"

"Never mind, I can forge a magical vial out of a blade of grass," the dryad said.

"Yeah, why don't you do that, then?" Fabian said as he bent over and pulled a handful of grass out of the ground.