Chapter 23: Madam Shaggy (Patreon)

The walk out of the forest was long but not without its fun. Unsurprisingly, the trees continued to vary in types and Zed and Oliver made a game out of it, guessing at how many trees they would have to pass before they found the same kind again. Oliver had wanted to make a wager out of it but none of the others were willing to lend Zed any money—not that he wanted to make a wager—so they were left with a friendly wager of wins and losses. If there was one thing the experience taught Zed, it was that Oliver might have a gambling addiction.

Dawn was breaking when they finally slipped out of the forest. They spent a few minutes strolling across a plateau of dry yellow grass that looked like hay before cresting down a hill covered in flat grass. It was only a while before they found themselves surrounded with signs of human life again.

The small town where they planned to strangle Abed by his fat throat—Zed assumed it was fat—was called Hillview. Zed had gotten the name from Oliver who was more than happy to regale him with his knowledge of the world after the second awakening.

Hillview’s population was of meagre size, and while they couldn’t be sure how many people survived there, Oliver was more than certain they did not number anywhere over the fifties.

Looking at the place, Zed was more than inclined to believe Oliver.

It was a raggedy accumulation of buildings somehow tossed together haphazardly by some shady architect who likely got his degree from some hundred-dollar online course with a three months learning period and was too lazy to put in the work to pretend he deserved the contract any one gave him.

In summary, it was a mess.

They approached one of the rundown buildings and stashed Oliver’s bag there. It contained Ash’s sawed off shotgun easily while the handle of Zed’s tomahawk and Chris baseball bat poked out from the top.

Zed was wondering how they were going to get Jason’s rune gun to fit when Jason held it by both ends and bent it. One half of the rune above the trigger glowed a faint purple and the gun broke in two before he slipped it into the bag.

“You broke it,” Zed said, confused.

“No,” Jason replied. “I dismantled it. There’s a difference.”

“No, you broke it. I know guns and I’ve never seen a gun come apart like that.”

“There’s magic, Zed,” Ash said. “In case you forgot. The gun has something like a reality rune that deals in construction and deconstruction magic.”

“What’s that?” Zed asked.

“There’s a rune for everything. Mages think there might be runes for time since there are runes for space.”

“You’d think a reality rune would deal with space and time since it’s called reality, you know.”

“I didn’t say it was a reality rune,” Ash corrected. “I said it was something like a reality rune. It does more of affecting the physical make up of Jason’s gun.”

“But it only allows me break it in two and put it back together,” Jason said, slipping the two halves of his weapon inside the bag. If it does anything else, I haven’t been able to figure it out.”

After their weapons were tucked safely in the bag, Oliver slipped out a piece of paper from a side pocket and unfolded it. It bore a rune on it and looked like the kind of paper Zed had seen on the door of the massive cabin where he’d met them.

“And what’s that?” Zed asked.

“Illusion rune,” Oliver said, smoothing the paper over the bag. “It’ll hide the bag.”

“How?”

Rather than answer him, Oliver placed a hand on the paper and focused. For a second nothing happened, then the rune ink glowed a soft pink and the bag vanished.

“You said it’s an illusion rune,” Zed said, peering at the empty spot where the bag had been. “So it’s safe to say the bag’s still there, right?”

“Yeah,” Oliver answered, getting back up. “The rune is a variation of a light rune and a sight rune. Don’t ask me what it is because I have no idea. I got it from Festus. According to him, it does something like refract the light around so that it looks like there’s no bag while the perception rune nudges anyone looking not to be curious.”

“Oh.”

After that, they left the building and ventured into the town.

The houses that littered the rest of the town were improperly spaced with some spaces too large to be justified unless the intention was to build another house, or too narrow as though there hadn’t been enough space for two compounds so they’d chucked two houses in a space large enough for only a compound and a half.

The roads were too wide and too sandy, reminding Zed of a wild west movie. It was a feeling it gave him but not a memory he had. He felt it was safe to argue a life in one of his memories had watched a few of them. Although, he couldn’t be sure which one or what their feeling towards the movie was.

Despite the lack of any sign of there ever having been a tarred road in the place, the ground beneath their feet was solid and Zed found himself wondering what it would feel like against the sole of his feet. It prompted him to tap Oliver.

“I can take my shoes off once we get back, right?” he whispered.

Oliver took a moment to think about it, then shrugged. “Sure. When we get to the house.”

They turned a corner around a broken down house. It was made of a combination of wood and cement and rusted irons somehow patched together in a way Zed’s mind couldn’t bend around. Still, most of it was shattered and he could see the insides of it. Everyone could.

The road after the house narrowed into a path so small that all five of them couldn’t walk side by side and they were forced to walk two at a time. Jason and Chris walked ahead with Ash in the middle while Oliver and Zed followed behind them.

Eventually, the road spread out again after another turn and they were no longer the only ones walking. People moved around them, reaching for whatever touch of destination kept their lives busy and somehow acceptable. The expressions on their faces were proof enough that they needed the distraction.

The team passed what looked like an alley and Zed saw a man passed out against the wall of one of the buildings with a needle in his arm. Not too far away on their path a man sold medical supplies at ‘affordable prices.’

“It’s like a bad western movie if it was occupied by society’s destitute and set in a third world country after a tsunami,” Zed commented as they walked, his gaze panning around, taking in the scene.

“I don’t think African countries experience tsunamis,” Chris said.

“One, some do,” Zed said as they approached a water fountain with no water. “And two, I never said anything about an African country.”

“You said third world.”

“And Africa isn’t the only continent with third world countries.”

“They—” Chris shook her head. “What am I doing? I can’t believe I’m arguing old world geography with an amnesia psychopath.”

“Memory loss isn’t always amnesia,” Zed said. “But I get your point. That said, what do we do now?”

They were standing at the shriveled up water fountain. Its rocks were cracked like clay baked for too long. At its centre where Zed suspected there had once been something aesthetical to spew the water was a street post. On one side, drafted in a green arrow with white paint, it read ‘old junk’ and pointing in the opposite direction another read ‘morning wood’.

The handwriting was horridly poor and barely legible.

“I guess whoever’s in charge of street signs has a sense of humor,” Zed commented, pointing at the words.

Jason looked up at it before ignoring it.

“I say we spread out,” he said, turning to Ash. “You and Chris go ask around, see if you can get any recent news. See if any out of town mages came by; any one suspicious, vague. Oliver’ll do the same but he’ll go south-side.”

“Isn’t that where the brothels are?” Ash asked.

“Yes,” Jason answered. “The girls wouldn’t have seen a clean man in a long while, and he has the cute and innocent face they’ll enjoy teasing. He’ll most likely get something useful from them if he plays to that strength.”

“And you?” Chris asked. “Please don’t say you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“I am,” Jason said. “He’ll probably tell me nothing at best or lie to me at worst, but I’m going to see a certain fat man, regardless.”

Chris sighed in exasperation but each of them went their way, departing to their various task.

“We come back here in an hour,” Jason informed them as they separated. “And, Zed, you’re with me. We can’t have you making enemies amongst the locals. Most of them aren’t refined enough to tolerate you.”

“Sure thing,” Zed said, going after Oliver. “I would definitely love to follow you so I can watch you frown and growl and posture while talking to a fat smelly man. I definitely don’t want to follow kind and friendly ol’ Oliver to go talk to some fine girls for hire.”

Zed’s voice rose as the distance between them increased and Oliver chuckled beside him. Zed thought he heard Jason grumble something over the distance but didn’t care enough to listen. He was more interested in his current important mission.

“Can you believe that guy,” he said to Oliver when Jason was out of sight. “What would make him think I’d want to follow him to see a sweaty fat guy? It’s just insane. And he’s been doing insane things recently.” He shook his head. “I worry for him.”

“You know that was him trying to apologize, right?” Oliver said.

“It was?” Zed replied, surprised. “How would taking me away from a task that involved nice young ladies be an acceptable apology?”

Oliver gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, you amazing hunk of a man,” Zed said, shaking his head. “You know what, let’s just go see some beautiful ladies actively working to seduce us.”

With that, he walked ahead of Oliver with a skip in his step.

………………………………………

Zed had been scammed.

In truth, he’d scammed himself. But Oliver was supposed to be a nice guy so he was justified in saying he’d been scammed. First, the south-side of this small little conglomeration that called itself a small town when it was nothing but an estate, at best, had been annoying to get to. There had been men begging and groping. Zed could’ve sworn an old guy with missing teeth had groped him quite firmly.

And the women, the self-proclaimed hookers?

Zed was of the opinion that ugly people could be called ugly but not hideous. Ugly was a simple observation while hideous was an insult. There was no sin in being called ugly even if people liked to treat the word as if it was God’s curse against mankind.

That said, the hookers were hideous.

The leader of the gang, because no self-respecting prostitution ring or establishment would dare bring together such a congregation of unfortunates and call themselves hookers, was a corpulent woman. She was round at the stomach with folds and dared to wear a fishnet for a top that left nothing to the imagination. She had unnaturally swollen lips and a mole so big and stark that it looked ready to threaten anyone who got too close on a face too corpulent.

The rest of her gang members—because there was no way Zed was going to call them hookers—were a combined variation. Some were skinny and some were plump enough to be passable. However, they each had one or more characteristics that ensured he would remain unwilling to pay for their services. One of them had a wood for a leg, just a simple stick, crooked and dirty, like someone had simply cut a branch from a tree and attached it to the stump of her missing leg. One had teeth that rivaled the metaphoric catacombs at the bottom of the sea that was Davey Jones locker. Zed could’ve sworn each time she opened her mouth to giggle at something Oliver said, he heard the dead begging to die.

He grabbed Oliver roughly by the back of his shirt and whispered harshly into his ears.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?!” he said. “Where are the beautiful women, the gorgeous women that giggle and make you want to break up with your girlfriend? Where are the hookers?”

Oliver spared him an apologetic smile before returning his attention to the ring leader and Zed let go of his shirt.

“So you’ve got no one?” Oliver was saying.

“I wouldn’t say no one,” the woman said. “Shanine just got back from Abed’s place and while she’s been there a while she’s still ready to go. You know how Abed is, hun. Shanine didn’t even break a sweat. If you want, you can take her on a spin.”

Oliver smiled, embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his head.

“Maybe another time, Madam Shaggy,” he said. “But right now I’m more interested in any strong mages that came by this area.”

“Just out of curiosity,” Zed poked his head Oliver’s shoulder. “Which one is Shanine?”

Madam Shaggy gave him a once over before pointing at one of the girls chatting in the alley. Zed followed her finger to a small girl that couldn’t be a day over sixteen. She was relatively clean, compared to the other girls and fleshed out. There were brown marks of dirt on her face and skin and she spoke to the others a bit subdued.

“I take it Abed is something like the richest guy in town,” he said, still looking at Shanine. “Am I right?”

“Yes you are, hun,” Madam Shaggy answered. “It’s the reason he’s our prized customer and the only one in town who can afford our beautiful Shanine. Why? Would you like to take her for a spin? It’s just a few rune-dollars for a ride.”

“Sorry,” Zed said conversationally. He slipped his hands in his pocket and pulled them out, empty. “I’ve got no money.”

“That’s sad. With all that red hair and cute green eyes, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to take you up.”

“Yea,” Zed said absently, watching Shanine smile over something one of the girls had said. “I’m sure she will.”

“Come on, Madam Shaggy,” Oliver pressed, usurping the conversation. “You’ve got to have seen something. This is the unofficial mage spot in this place. It’s also the rumor market, even if you and none of your girls saw anything, you must’ve heard something.”

“As a matter of fact,” Madam Shaggy said, massive lips flinging spittle, “we did. We saw and heard a lot of things. But, like I said, Abed’s the richest man in town and my most lucrative customer. And I’m sure you’ve talked to him because that’s what you and your friends do first anytime you get into town. So if he ain’t telling you anything, then I can’t tell you anything. Sorry, love.”

Oliver sighed and Zed took his eyes from Shanine to study the woman in front of them. The way she spoke implied that she really was sorry.

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “I heard Abed’s got a mouth on him.”

“You haven’t met the man before?” Madam Shaggy asked. “Well, that shouldn’t be surprising, I haven’t seen you before and you’re here with Oliver all buddied up. You must be new.”

“Yes, and no, and yes,” Zed answered.

“That’s one answer too many,” Madam Shaggy said. “I believe I only asked two questions.”

Zed nodded. “You did. I gave you three for fun. One of them is true, one is a lie, and one is extra. I’ll leave the choice to your discretion. As I was saying, do you have any idea of what would make a man so open lipped so tight lipped. I mean…”

His words trailed off as his gaze panned back to Shanine, an idea taking shape in his mind. He didn’t think anything fruitful would come from it, but it was beginning to look like his only viable option.

“You mean?” Madam Shaggy prompted.

Zed’s eyes came back to the conversation.

“What would you say we try a different approach at this?” he asked.

“I’m listening,” Madam Shaggy answered.

“A domineering woman of your status—big and commanding—most men must find you intimidating,” he said, and she raised a quizzical brow. “Must make it hard to get any good rumble in the sheets when you want, right?”

“Right,” she stretched the word.

“How about this, then,” Zed said, placing gentle hands on Oliver’s shoulders. “Would you be willing to tell my good friend over here what you know during a tussle in the sheets?”

Madam Shaggy licked her lip, a smile growing on her face. “Certainly. But he’s got to know I’ll make him work for it.”

Zed found it hard to believe her smile was supposed to be seductive because with the size of her lips and the shadow of a moustache she was sporting, it looked anything but menacing. She looked more like the wicked witch from old cartoons.

Oliver moved out of Zed’s hold so fast there had to be magic involved in his movement. Free and standing beside Zed, he said quietly, “I’m not willing to sacrifice that much for this piece of information.”

“What do you mean?” Zed asked. “It’s for the team, Oliver. Take one for the team.”

“Yes, Oliver,” Madam Shaggy said, her voice husky, almost deep. “Take one for the team.”

Zed’s attention shot to her and his mouth dropped. Wait, wait, wait, his mind panicked, then he turned to Oliver.

“Did I,” he stuttered, unsure. “Did I just hear…”

Oliver nodded slowly and Zed shook his head in disbelief. He could’ve sworn he’d heard a man’s voice.

No, no, no, no.

He refused to accept it. He rounded on Madam Shaggy and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You’re a du—”

Oliver clamped a hand over his mouth as Zed struggled against his hold, fighting for his right to freedom of speech.

“Thank you for your time, Madam Shaggy,” Oliver said politely, dragging Zed away. All the while Zed struggled in his hold.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with what you were looking for,” Madam Shaggy said, her voice soft and feminine once more.

Zed’s struggle doubled in Oliver’s hold. He couldn’t believe he’d thought the man was a woman for even a second. He demanded he be released to make his case, to protest against being deceived and lied to. No man should deceive another man so blatantly. But Oliver’s hold was a metal bar wrapped around his mouth until they were free of Madam Shaggy’s reach.

“That was a guy!” Zed protested when Oliver released him.

“Yes,” Oliver said. “Emphasis on was. And she doesn’t take kindly to having it pointed out.”

“Oh.” Zed muttered. “Had no idea that was possible.”

“Of course you don't. You don't even know who superman is.”

“Good point.” Zed shrugged. “So what next.”

"Well," Oliver said, thoughtful. "If I'm not mistaken, I think we might have a problem with this anonymous mage.”

Something caught Zed’s attention a few buildings away as Oliver spoke and he turned to find Shanine and a few of the other girls walking. Oliver’s explanation slowly dwindled to join the sound in the background.

“Madam Shaggy’s already confirmed there was at least a mage in town,” Oliver was saying. “A mage she was not at liberty to speak of because Abed didn’t want to speak of whoever it was. And while she claimed she knew Abed didn’t want to speak of them because I was asking when we’d normally be asking Abed, I think Abed had already told her to the keep the existence of the mage a secret. A mage Abed doesn’t want anyone to know about,” he mused. “No matter how much I think about it, none of this sounds good. If we’re unlucky, the mage might be a Bishop ranker. And nobody wants to mess with a bishop rank mage. Not out here. This might be a bigger problem than we thought, Zed. We need to get to Jason and get him to let this one go before… Zed?”

Oliver turned.

“Zed?” he called again, unable to find him.

He turned his gaze around and saw no sign of Zed, not even a glimpse of red hair in a crowd of browns and blacks. He knew what Zed’s aura felt like and wanted to spread his aura about in search of it but didn’t want to cause any troubles. He was not skilled enough in aura manipulation to go looking for an aura far from him without washing over everyone around him with his own while he was looking.

Losing Zed was problematic. But Oliver knew Zed was responsible enough, despite his joviality, to get back to the meeting spot when the time came. He had only no more than fifteen minutes left before they needed to get back so Oliver wasn’t very worried. After all, what was the worst that could happen in that short time.

His mind went back to the encounter with Madam Shaggy and pretty much everything he knew about Zed and he dropped a worried head in his hands with a single thought.

“I better go find him.”