XXV

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Jason's pov

It took all four of us to hold back to satyr.

"Whoa, Coach!" Jason said. "Bring it down a few notches."

A younger man charged into the room. I guessed he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He was dressed in pajama pants and a T-shirt that said CORNHUSKERS, and he held a sword that looked like it could husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't so sliced up.

Lit immediately zeroed in on me like I was the biggest threat, and walked toward me, swinging his sword overhead. Tori whipped out her sword. When Lit turned to her, she turned her head and looked at Lit and raised eyebrow with a look that said: You really want to go there. Lit looked amused and smirked.

"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is a misunderstanding! Everything's fine."

Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked very wary.

It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

"Coach," I pleaded, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."

"Thank you!" said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"

"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper said. "Coach, you can be first."

Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"

"No," Piper said.

"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns they were friendly, I'll apologize."

"No!" Piper insisted.

"Meh." Coach Hedge lowered his club.

Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looked extremely cute, and I felt a little jealous she was giving Lit that smile.

Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl—fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."

"I would've love to seen you try." Tori said.

Lit glared at her. The old man in the bathrobe sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please sit down."

Lit frowned. "Your Majesty—"

"No, no, it's fine, Lit." the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He did his best to smile, though it looked forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."

"Midas? Impossible," said Coach Hedge. "He died."

We were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and I kept worrying the old guy would forget and uncrossed his legs. Hopefully he was wearing golden boxers under there.

Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Tori and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying. I wondered if I looked that ripped holding a sword. Sadly, I doubted it.

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