The Calligrapher

Chapter Eight: That's Magic, Babe

[A/N: There's some alluded-to sexual stuff in this chapter. Nothing explicitly described, but beware]

We stand in front of a golden throne. It is simple yet elegant, and the craftsmanship makes my mouth water.

We've been fed, something hot and earthy and luminescent. It tasted unlike anything I'd ever eaten and gave me a slight stomach ache, but it was filling and rejuvenating.

    Sitting atop the beautiful throne is a hanctalcan. He looks similar to the other members of his species that we've seen in this underground world, if slightly larger. He wears ceremonial bangles and cuffs, also made of gold.

    We are held again by the guards. The room is cavernous but clean, and people scurry in every direction. Unlike the rest of what I've seen of his kingdom, his chamber is lit by more than the mushrooms. There are delicate metal sconces lining the walls that glow merrily. My fingers itch to run across the ornate details.

I start to kneel, but Lennan yanks my upper arm up with surprising strength. They catch my eye and shake their head slightly. I stand and wait for instructions.

    The king (so I assume) says something in the growling language of his people. When Lennan haltingly responds, he cuts them off in English.

    "I thought I recognized you! You have some nerve, coming back here." Lennan starts to explain but the king interrupts again. I raise my eyebrows at Reina. Few people interrupt Lennan and keep their epidermis intact.

    "No need. 'Tis all water under the ridge, as you say. We, however, still have a problem."

On cue, another door leading to the chamber opens. Itir is led out, held by a guard on either side of him. He looks superficially bruised and cut, probably from his fall. Otherwise, he's thankfully unharmed. I find myself reaching out to him, but the guard pins my hands with three of his arms again.

When Itir sees me, he smiles his big, bright smile, even though it must hurt with his split lip. He is brought next to us, though too far away for me to talk to him. The king nods.

"Very good. Now tell me, Lennan, do you know this man?"

"Yes, yes I do, sir."

"Funny you should call me that. I don't remember it being me holding that title last time we met." I'm confused and more than a bit frightened by that remark. I look around myself and see that every non-guard hanctalcan has disappeared from the chamber.

"Your friend here crushed a cart of essential supplies for tomorrow's festival. Between that, the damage you did not an hour ago, and the damage that you never fully paid for the last time, I think we may have a problem." Lennan grins sheepishly.

"I understand, and I'm sorry. If there's any way-"

"I'm inclined to be very lenient, Lennan. I need a favor, and, after you've completed this task, for you to never return. Otherwise, your friends will be our permanent guests." He smiles wildly, showing more flat white teeth than I feel is really necessary. I feel Lennan bristle beside me and I brace myself.

"Listen here you green-blooded, tiny pricked motherfucker, I don't respond very well to threats. Now-"

The king throws back his head and laughs, long and loud.

"I like your spirit, Lennan, I always have. Trust me, you'll like this quest. I need you to defeat a yorman for me."

I shudder. Yormans have long been the beasts small children were threatened with being fed to. I was no exception; my mother was particularly fond of stories about a spiky, large-toothed character named Tam.

"He is named Salack. He's a smart one, and his roots are drilling into my kingdom and stealing my people. Do you accept, or do your lovely companions get to enjoy a second meal here?" Lennan grits their teeth.

"I accept, sir." They say derisively. The king, thankfully, seems amused rather than offended.

"Fantastic. Feel free to leave as soon as possible and never, ever return. And Lennan?" He says, just as we're released by the guards. They quirk a single, scarred, pierced eyebrow questioningly.

"My prick was plenty for you if I recall correctly. Have a nice trip."

Lennan's fair Scottish skin is bright red by the time we make our way out of the chamber. As soon as we're nearing the exit and far out of hearing range, Kahina bursts into musical giggles. She laughs so hard that she has to stop and bend over, hands on her knees.

"You fucked a king, Lennan? Really?" Lennan scowls, trying to hide a grin.

"At least I was on top, Ms 'I don't sleep with woodland spirits'."  That sobers her up mighty quickly and leaves me wondering why I am suddenly the second-best role model in the room. We keep going, pushing through crowds of curious hanctalcans to get to the staircase, which is actually made up of stairs once again.

Throngs of hanctalcan children follow many feet behind us, sideways-pupiled eyes wide and round. Reina, Kahina, and Itir forge ahead, climbing the slippery steps one by one.

I look back at Lennan, who is staring at the obstacle with a sense of sad determination. They dig in their bag, which was returned when we were released, and pull out three small jars and a pair of gloves. The first jar holds a light blue powder, which they blow over the gloves. The second holds a light, barely-there red liquid that they take a dainty sip of. The third holds hard candies that glow unnaturally, and they pop one in their mouth. They restore the jars and shove on the now glittering gloves.

Nodding at the stairs for me, they attach themselves to the wall and start climbing sideways as if they weigh nothing. I shrug at the children watching us and start ascending the steps. The whole process took maybe a minute, and I rush to catch up with the walking portion of my group. Lennan outpaces us all, swinging hundreds of feet above the ground from one finger. After an hour of climbing, we make it to the top. Lennan swings themself up and we stumble onto flat earth gratefully. The sun is low in the sky and we just barely have the energy to move a dozen yards from the entrance to the underground kingdom before we all collapse.

After some time, we manage to sit up, I make a fire, and we eat. Itir changes Lennan's bandages, and the wound looks even worse in the fiery sunset. Kahina's freckles glow white, and Reina sets to work combing the mushroom powder from her admirably smooth and shiny hair.

No one talks much. I hold Itir's hand while he rests his head on his sister's shoulder.