“You know, I’ve changed my mi-”
“No.” Segrid was unmoving on this.
Damn it.
“Pen and I had been contemplating becoming llama wranglers. Alpacas, Camels, whatever, you pick, we could go out right now and-”
Closing the door to his van, pocketing his keys, he smiled as if I hadn’t spoken and took my hand. “Human realm animals may be finicky with your powers unbound. But, loikie is of our home realm… It is not unlike a beast of Geddendon in its fearsomeness, if much tamer, and they live in water. You will need a spot to claim of your own, for our younglings to play in, should they inherit your aquatic leanings. We could build loikie pens for you to raise and train them?”
“It sounds like there's a catch,” I mused, taking the bait. A beast of Geddendon, I’d learned, was a water buffalo sized creature that tunneled beneath Mordenne’s soil, burrowing deep to make its home. They had three tiny eyes they could barely see out of, relying on the four slits for stubby, wet nostrils on the end of their heavily whiskered faces. They had too many chubby legs to count on their jiggly, orange and pink spotted pale white, wormy bodies to count, and were surprisingly fond of bacon and sun butter sandwiches. Or so I’d learned as one barged into my Earth magicks lesson earlier this week, accidentally busting through a cave wall to drop right into the huge room Seg had given me to practice in, and I’d panicked and chucked the sandwich I’d had in my hand at its confused head.
We gave the room over to him, sealing it off but for a small window of a hole I used to unabashedly peep in on the odd beast and maybe toss him a treat or two.
I didn’t have a name for him yet but I was tentatively going with Phteven, because he had a funny little over bite on those killer rows of teeth after teeth in his oh shit shaped mouth full of row after row of the dirt hole diggin’ sharp things and that’s how I’d imagined he’d speak. Ptheven of Geddendon, now Helm.
“They are not kind to non-water beings. They spit,” he explained with a grin. “But they are not flame retardant like Michi’s mini loiga.
Michi’s loiga. Ugh. Finally, a kind of kitty, sorta, that I wasn’t allergic to, yet I couldn’t touch the fire cat looking creature a fire Ogre had adopted recently. Some beings had all the luck. Today, especially, that someone was not me.
“And you’re sure they’re not, like, water llamas? Water camels?”
“I am certain,” he stated confidently.
I paused halfway through the parking lot. “Baby, are you bribing me with water loy-kee things, maybe not water llamas, to go in to… to, ah, there?”
“Loikies.” His hand slid to my waist, up my back, around my side, curling me close to him. “Is it working?”
“Mm...maybe.”
Segrid planted a kiss on my forehead. “Fear not, my heart. All will be well.”
I sure hoped so.
The building was huge, even more impressive- or I should say, even fancier.
“This is the place? I think you mean palace,” I breathed.
It took a lot of nudging on Segrid’s part to get me going to the head desk. It loomed before me, a large cutout window with a marbled looking counter, all done up in shades of greens, blues, marbled hints of metallic gold. It sparkled like it was brand spanking new.
A man suddenly skidded into the room, all smiles and genial greetings. “Hello, welcome to The Fin! What can I do for you two today?” His nametag read Brine. His hair matched his name, blonde with faded streaks of green and blue.
When Segrid didn’t speak up right away, I blurted, “I’m Vivienne. This is Segrid. We, ah, he, I mean, he spoke with, uh…” My mind blanked.
“Birnepholous,” Segrid supplied.
“Vivienne,” Brine said slowly, like he vaguely recalled my name but couldn’t put two and two together. “Vivienne,” he murmured again. “Ah… hang tight for a sec, okay? Lemme just go and ask…”
“Vivienne?” A feminine voice called. A woman with black hair popped her head into the room Brine was in. She stared straight at us, as if the male manning the desk wasn’t even there, and she chirruped, “Vivienne… Betten?
“Femmel,” I started to correct, talking loudly so I was heard over the ruckus coming from the back, splashing and carrying on from the sounds of it, but then I realized we’d never really discussed this, Segrid and I, and my voice faltered.
Segrid’s hand slid down my back, to my hip, where it rested heavily. “The Troll Queen, Lady Vivienne Betten-Femmel,” Segrid announced with a proprietary air, all regal and shit. Color me impressed, and feeling fancy and shit.
“Oh.” Per glanced between us and smiled. “A Troll Queen. Cool.” Her head bobbed in a nod as the male at the desk, Brine, gaped at us. “Peasant Permelia,” she went on, tapping the glittering red heart of the deeply pink shirt announcing she loved monster cock, “of… no apparent consequence.” Her grin turned wicked and teasing when I chuckled.
The Troll at my side grunted, the first time I’d yet to hear him unmoved by even the silliest little bit of humor. Huh.
Gesturing towards the large double doors, she jerked her chin in that direction. “Meet me ‘round that way, huh, and I’ll buzz you in on this side.”
