(GE Copy)

Chapter 6: Blessing of the Holy Mackerel

“If I could not laugh, I would surely cry.”

Down meadow, they passed the hollow stump of a mighty tree. It’s log rolled over, too rotten to hold their weight. A weaving of deer had made trails that littered the glade with beds of laid grass where they slept. It speckled the areas between like crop circles. Past the exit was a narrow woodland way and it dipped many times going down until a final slope which practically fell away under their feet. The steep shuffled Zack’s feet and he took a tumble into the grass. Rolling with glee over the soft bed and moist soil.

They stopped by the creek, where a large bolder sat. They looked across the running water, to a path beyond the bountiful bush but their eyes got caught early by the frolic of a hungry fish. It was about eight inches long, wide, but not tall. At least, not under the obstruction of the water’s lens. It moved in the liquid crystal. Cold, very cold. Fed by some glacier somewhere far off from their knowing. A somewhere which was also very new to them as was right before them. No thought to how they’d return, only the assumption that they could simply make it from whence they came.

Aaron firmly grasped the sharp branch, feeling it dig into his skin as his hand stripped and tore the leaves all the way down the stem trying not to let go. The running stream flowed below his feet along the embankment. He grit through the sharpness, and held tight as it pulled him back to balance on the bank. Pulling himself away from the cold running creek. Zack made the jump across more efficiently. Gloating after Aaron’s remarks, Zack boasted. “If you can make Tomlin Street to your house in ten minutes, that is no problem.” Guiltily wiping the mud from his shoe upon the grass.

“I should start hitting the gym for once, maybe it’ll actually come in handy... Well, right, left, or straight through the bush until we come onto the next ravine?”

Zack rubbed the lacquered skin of his forehead, shifting between either lean. His indecisiveness met with a coin toss. Followed by a second, after he remembered to actually call a direction for either face before revealing.

Between the tall standing trees, they could see an excess of dead fall unable to support their lower branches with the solar competition. It reminded Aaron of his trip through the Rockies. Nature finding optimal existence past the point of it’s conception.

They jumped when two large geese flew overhead, their strange cackling being a foreign sound to most conventional fowl from home. “I suppose we’ll want to make sure we don’t get snuck up on by ogres?” Zack mentioned, giving his surrounds a more thorough examination.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a fun time.” Aaron recalled dryly, smirking at Zack’s defensive plans “Piss all that Swiss Army knife is gonna do against them.”

“You’d be surprised what you can do with just a knife.”

“Stab them in the eye?”

“Turn screws, open cans, make fire starter... Said it was the one daily carry a woodsmen really needs. Wish I knew how, but it was the course they were gonna give us at camp next year...”

“The year you got sick with the H1?”

“Nah, but H1 was pretty fun, dreamt I had a girlfriend who was a compass and it would lead me to where her body parts were. Pieces of metal and scrap. It was supposed to be before she died but it turned into the parts she was ordained to be made from. Got pretty excited holding the water bottle, coz I knew what it was going to be, super squishy too. Like a dollar store stress toy. Plus the bolts tasted like gummy candies. When I was awake H1 was pretty crap, but you can’t write half that shit.”

“Well, if we need confirmation that we’re not home, there it is.” Aaron pointed to a shambled homestead leaned slightly and was propped up with a few extra logs. A thatch roof that had a shallow slope, patted down with mud and branches. It looked like was done by someone who saw what a thatched roof looked like, but didn’t really know how to get from point ‘a’ to point ‘thatched roof’.

“You haven’t travelled the Okanagan back roads very much, have you?” Zack remarked getting closer. The front lawn was all patted down dirt, with a fence covering the middle and completely open on the sides like someone gave up half way. From the side they saw an old skinny woman “Look at this old crone.” Zack uttered quietly to Aaron. The bat like ears of the old bag catching attention.

“Oh fu...nk.” Aaron dismayed, at the next angry personage Zackery offended approaching them.

“Who are you calling an old crone?” She scowled, sternly looking to them. “I haven't even practised witchcraft’in in... At least thirty five years! My Mama, she was a crone!” Pointing her finger at them, and then her thumb to what should be an old grave as she stampered over. “Damn near taught us everything there was but, no! Not me, I wanted to be a bumpkin!” Standing firmly, arms crossed, proud of herself. “But oh! 'that's not a good profession, learn how to douch with a king toad!' She said,” Mocking the figure in question. “Sure Mama said... Mama said 'bumkins don't have beast deities, you should go pact with one of them' Always nagging, 'When you gonna be a witch, when you gonna be a witch, huh? Do bumpkins sell their turds to farmers? No! The ALM won't regulate it. It's unclean!'” Still raving as they slowly walked by. “I said witches don’t sell them either, right?... I once had a door to door witchdoctor come by, ask for donations, when I said something, he told me he wasn't a real witch, well I said 'damn right you aint, and neither am I!' before slamming the door on him. Damn near lost my mind, they tried to take it away from me, but I still got it! Won't be seeing me in the corner with no damn silver spoon. Now get, GET! If I had a broom, I'd shoo you out of here, but I ain’t got one seeing as I ain’t a witch. Damn near detest brooms, really. You know what comes after 'I' in the alpha-fa-ma-fabet? It's...” Stopping to remember herself. “E, G, I... 'Am not a Crone!'”

Her countless remarks and ramblings continued down the road, well out of sight of her. They figured she probably started barking at an elm tree or something, or her eyes were bad enough to think they were still there.

At the roads expanse, they came onto a vibrant field. Humid, full of flying insects, some mystifying and some uglier than sin. So, to some, they were freaking gorgeous. “Oi!” Zack mentioned, coming onto the peek. The land opened up to showcase a wide vista that took their meadow down a peg as the true extent of their field sprawled fifty times the size. Succulent grass combed over the opening with a definitive treeline curling out of their sight. In the distance they could feel the cool waft from the lake the flowers in between like mint chocolate and sprinkles. “It’s a freaking castle!” Zack pointed out towards the walled city. Real awe striking over him.

“A’ight... I’m thoroughly impressed. Not sure what I was expecting, like every fantasy, literally ever made, it’s some fifteenth century magical paradise. One day I’d like to see a giant tech tower with floating cars and robot bodyguards... But... I gotta say, even this doesn’t disappoint.” Standing atop the hill, proudly rubbing the excitement from his cheeks.

“Well, we gonna wait here until it advances to the steam punk era, or we gonna check it out?” Zack shot back as his feet carried him into the field at full tilt.

As they approached the gate, the magnificence bleached stone was smooth but aged. Details spotted imperfections which time worn into it. It certainly couldn’t be some Hollywood prop before them. Like a time machine ripped it out of space, standing a monolith of a wall at least twenty feet tall with battlements and a rampart next to the gatehouse. And even from here, they could still see the roof of it’s capital fortification. Maybe even the castle’s throne room.

Two guards stood outside. One with a shortened neck beard and heavy mutton chops, the other with a clean shave and a thin moustache that stood attentively. He smiled as they approached, leaning forward on his scabbard.

“Hail traveller, merry weather and what ho.” The boys tried to return greetings but the bold guard continued to speak over top of them. “Can I see your Gold Card?...” Watching for their response. “I declare, this is one of those VIP walled cities, not some run of the mill cultish pecker in a sheep kind of towns. A real classy establishment.”

Shyly, Aaron returned. “Will you take a Costco card?”

“Sorry, can't let you in, official business, you understand. Tell'em Wager.” Knocking his partner awake

“Eh?” The sleepier guard mumbled.

“Go on Wager, tell the lads how they can't enter the VIP walled city without a gold card.”

Scratching his scruff, Wager looked to his partner then back to the kids, putting on a mean pout. “Yeah...” Before returning his back to the wall to lean.

“See, told you... One gold card required, can't do anything about it.” His stomach grumbling. “Unless...” Looking about, and closing into the two “You could spot me a hot honey berry roll... Then, I would say it is ‘official business’. Should practically pay you a government wage if you did. Course, you’d have to file it out with the ministry but at least you’d be in.”

“What kind of official business pays in hot honey berry rolls?” Aaron retorted, confidently.

“Supply boys... Need them everywhere. How are we to watch the roaring roads on an empty stomach, delivering me one would practically...” Laughing a stern chuckle. “Practically make you an honourary citizen... Well! You heard it, gold card or a honey berry roll, hot not cold and if they offer you one with raisins feed, it to the crows. Nothing worse than feeding a guard cooked raisins. That there is a castrating offence around these parts, isn't it?” Waking his partner again.

Looking back to his partner, and back to the kids, Wager leaned in. “Yeeeeaaaasss...” Nodding his head as he returned position.

“Well then, off ya go!”

Aaron staggered back, “You know... I rather not spend my day haggling with two heavily armoured, and... Rather nicely at that.” Earning the appreciation of their main door servant. “Men with sharpened spears.”

“They also issued us short swords! Finally, my request came in...” Boasting bashfully, “I issued that request you know. Yup... His is kind of loose though, hasn't quite got the knack for it yet has he? Has he!” Nudging his partner.

“Yeah...” Wager replied, bit annoyed.

“Limp sheath, you know... Right then, any longer will be loitering. Hop to!”

Watching the two leave down the wall, the sleepier of the guards refixed himself, stretching his arms and propping back up into a firm stance. “You uh... Don't think that was a bit mean... Do you? I mean, where are they going to even get a hot honey berry roll? Your aunty is only ones that makes them, and she's in there.”

“Those kids? Naaah, they seem fine, there's more than one door into the city, they'll let them in.”

“You could have just let them in yourself... Now they...” Peering down the wall to watch them hop in the fields of tall grass. “They got like a dials notch run to the next door.”

Sure enough, the dials notch moved and their faces returned. “Wow.... Two fetch quests in one day.” Zachery commented still stuck on the uncanny response they received on the other door. “One hot roll, or a grilled salmon.”

“At least the first guy had an imagination.” Aaron scowled.

“At least the second guy gave us something manageable.”

“I have doubts they even give a shit.” Passing by the first door.

The main guard standing up front with a waterskin. “If you keep coming back empty handed, I might think you an Heldian spy!” Chuckling as he did. Water running down his chin.

The other guard returning from the can. “That them again?... EH!” Their pace increasing. “Mates! Oi! I was gonna tell them they could just come in... Belimere... I'm right certain you scared them off.”

“They picked up heel after you hollered, I call that one on your blunder, really...”

“Your a real knotted turnip, you know that?”

“Yup... Mama's finest...”

Down by the lake, where the walls would not go, a little opening bore, for ships to and fro. The port side from what they could see was a large bay with two docks on each side of the adjacent walls. A festive wooden peninsula positioned in the centre with beaches all around and a healthy group of patrons making use of the rope swing. “Just like home, eh?”

“They're crazier than us,” Zachery contested. “It's ten degrees too cold to be flopping about in the water.”

“Yeah, we really get spoiled with that summer heat, don't we?... Almost looks like we could swim on in there, huh?”

“Phh!” Zachery huffed, pondering it. His attention caught by the passing ships, which glimmered. The sloshing of the waves up to the shore where he was, beckoning him to the antique soaked wood which passing breeze pulled him off his feet. It was almost surreal to see the ancient vessel make tides so close to them that they could feel the moist shade of it’s casting breeze. Aaron already having dislodged his shoes to bath his sore heels in the lake. Kicking off his own, Zachery flopped both into the drink. Not yet blistering, the sun poured down. “Not a bad day, huh?”

“Nope...” Aaron agreed blissfully. “Not a bad day at all...”

“You suppose they'll have a canary if we slipped in?”

“Door men are having a hoot of it, I doubt they even need to keep us out. Their more worried about the onrush of soldiers, and the odd hag... Probably.”

“I keep looking at that beach. I'm not much of a party goer, and the ladies are a little conservative with their dressing but... You know... Five dollars would be really nice right about now.”

“Something tells me they wouldn't take it... Be nice to have some coin though, I agree. Buy a nice skewer with lots of mushrooms, whatever they got to drink. Soak up what another world feels like. That night... Learned a lot of things and now that it is right in front of me... I'm taking a stroll, with or without you.”

“No need... Talked me into it.” Zack commented, tidying up his things. “What are they gonna do to some kids, eh? Throw them into a lock box and set the bail at fifty quid? Been thinking, it's a ways in there... Probably be easiest we catch a skitch on one of those cargoes. No moving parts or anything, not like we'd be caught in the blades... Jump off and swim to shore.”

“Got a phone on you?”

“Out here?... Oh, yeah” Checking his pockets for water soluble materials “Pockets empty.”

Plunging into the depths, the falloff came quickly. The brisk tides that sloshed against them were much warmer on the surface than their legs which met with the walk in freezer. “Like niiinja” Aaron dipped under the tides, dodging to the inner wall on the other side of the ship's path just out of sight as they waited for the next passer to happen by. It was almost made tolerable here by the warmth off the structure. Sure enough, ten minutes later the water rippled through the gateway. A nice large ship. Without much to actually grab onto, their grips fell to it's back, both latched to the rotter. They felt a great resistance in the current as it turned. Soon they were met to the middle of the walled lake. The walls which radiated most their initial warmth were scares in the cold depth with nothing to warm it. Getting colder by the moment they unlatched, swimming the hard sinking swim onto the shore. For Okanagan boys, their swimming skills sucked. Like a lot. The warm shoreline waters renewed them, finally touching the ground beneath them. Emerging, and dripping wet, they shivered, freezing in the blinding sun. They wiped their hair back trying to see. No time to lament, by golly they made it and you can be certain they celebrated.

Men sprawled upon the sands, their baggy trunks with legs down past their knees, and ladies in one piece suits which resembled long johns with the sleeves cut short. The buildings came up to the edge of the walk with balcony and deck over viewing the waterfront. From where they were now, they could see the restaurants and bars along the dock, packed with the towns population. Kinda looked like everyones day off with how many were stocked.

Treading the bleached stone walk, Aaron and Zachery took a cruise of the main drag which lead into town. Wringing out their shirts, and hoped they would dry, especially each time they were in the shade. Aaron feeling the cold of his shirt as he reapplied it. “If we got the time, when I'm leaving...” Pulling his head through. “I'll deliver him a brown paper bag with shit in it and tell him they had a sale on chocolate honey rolls. We can outrun some dudes in heavy steel armour, right?”

“Aaron...” Zack worried.

“Relax, I'm not in the mood for upsetting two nations in one day. Beit, you pissed off he first.

“I'm glad to see you loosening up... But these guys got swords.”

“Afternoon, boys!” One such fattened soldier greeted. The hair on the kids necks raising even more than it already was. “You kids look like travellers, you got your Green cards with you?”

Reaching into his wallet, Aaron pulled out a very wet loyalty card for the local fruit stand. “You have anything better to do than bother your guests?”

Dumbfounded, the soldier pulled up the card for inspection “Well... You gotta understand, there’s not actually all that much to do, actually...” Dawning the bright plastic and fine printed image of the Okanagan wineries that faced the lake. His eyes gandering at the fine workmanship, and wiping his brow. “Ay... Ay, have yourselves a wonderful day, young dignitaries... Don't forget to spend some money.” Walking away rather briskly.

“Dignitaries... They never see a rewards card before?”

Beyond the main streets, they came onto a plaza, where sat a market. People buying, selling, carrying large wooden crates to restock the bountiful business. Shaking his head, Zachery astounded to the sight “The people here look so happy, I wonder what they haven't lost in society. Just look at it, nothing to their name but some stone and some sticks tied with thatch and tree moss, moving about hard labour days, having to run a stall for hands meat... Still with a smile on their face.” Zack humbled. “Just how much have we lost because of technology... Just what is it about this that makes so damn happy here...”

Softly, an older lady approached, grabbing Zacheries hand and looking him in the eye “Ah'll schuck ya dick feh twenty dollas.”

“Aaron...” His face worried beyond belief. The old lady dragging him off to the side. “Someone's grandma is trying to pick me up, help!...” Desperation squeaking out of his voice.

“They got some culture here, huh?” Finally having wrestled Zachery off of the wills of the thirsty GYLF. Minus the last three letters. “Guess you found out why their all happy.” Walking up to a stall. “Hi, what currency does this town use?”

The young bashful woman, kinda taken off guard realligned herself after the dumb sounding question. “Tapos...” Excusing herself to recompose. “Fresh apples, berries and corn, two for a dozen.”

“Will you take a toonie?” Holding up the semi-warn two colour silver and goldish medalion. A special release toonie, depicting a trout swimming an open lake. The young girl captivated at the detailed craftsmanship. Seeing it less as a feasible currency and more as a trinket of barter. Her eyes fixated on it for a moment longer than was comfortable before clearing her throat to make the sale.

“Dude...” Zachery contested, checking his own wallet, as the store clerk waved them off “That was our last toonie, and you blew it on crap we already got at home.”.

“I was hungry.” Aaron confessed. “It's not like a spartan, or a gala... Not bland, kinda meaty actually.”

“They got pastries, and a grill over there, and you bought the second lowest food group next to vegetables.”

“We could come back... Show these guys what a danish is. You think they know what garlic bread is?”

“Damnit!” Reaching into Aarons armful of assorted apples. “Making me hungry.” Zachery complained, biting into the apple. “Hey, there's a church up ahead. Wonder what kind of hairbrained Paganistic thing they worship...” Walking nearer. Two priests outside giving praise in a bold and full bodied tone. Their words echoed into another with a seeming foreign dialect that audibly made no more sense than the rambles of a homless vagrant. One with impeccable, but otherwise indistinguishable vocal skills. “You know, for being a foreign apple, this is actually quite bland.”

“Your tastebuds suck.” Aaron laughed.

“Your apples suck. Two fifty and we could have a dozen right out of the bin.”

“You're still sore about not getting any honey berry roles? How about you pull out your wallet.”

“Hebebebe be beeh!” Zachery mocked back. “Bloody toonie eh? Mate, hook up the dogsled, I'm picking up some doughnuts and a two four, you want anything? Of couse I'm sore about it!” Looking into his wallet. You think they take a credit card?”

“With how empty it is, I think they'd decline it before you even swiped it.”

“I will have you know, there is more money, in this plastic greenback than you paid Crandel to humiliate himself in front of everyone he knew”

“So, about five fifty? Buys you a nice slushie and an Ocean Wave bar.”

From their sides, the jaw stricken priests called out. “Heralds, please, with us!” Hastily approaching, the grave depth of astoundment upon their faces.

“What?” Aaron gasped, as the men appeared.

“What do you want!?” Zachery shouted, still offset about his day “Can't you see we are on official business?” His preloaded credit card still in his hands, as he waved it around.”

“Salmona!” One of the men proclaimed, tightening the collar around his cassock. “I should never have doubted you Brother Karpli. Come! Come! Your business is with us!”

Fighting the whole way, Aaron and Zachery contested their blatant kidnapping. Inside the stone doors, the cool air inside enclosing the heavy internal atmosphere.

“I have rights!” Zackery continued his tirade “You can't just rip us off the street and abduct us!”

“This your first time?” Aaron jested to his friend.

“Yeah, what if it aint!”

“Traut, who are these foreign beggars?” The head preist, addressed, “We have an appointment with the Heralds!”

“Yeah, let us go!”

“I am not speaking to you!” The head priest asserted to Zachery. “Traut! Explain yourself!”

“Brother Dagon, these are the Heralds! The directions probably weren't clear enough, but I found them wandering on business.”

Stricken, Dagon regained his composure, clearing himself from his awe. “But... How can you be certain?”

Zachery and Aaron tired to set things straight, but their voices could not be heard under the ravaging explosive voice of the bewildered priest. “I saw them come straight out from the middle of the Wakainwa, covered in weeds having swam from the depths of the lake, dressed in foreign garb, the foreign speak of their tongues are like a nazely prince! And they have a way of paying with a... Cre...ed...it...card...” reading the name off the back.

“HEY! That's mine!” Zack continued his tantrum.

“Not like anythings on it...” Aaron snickered, much more humoured by this fate.

“I don't know...” The head priest confessed, his head shaking with disbelief. “This is all so overwhelming. It could all be a misunderstanding...”

“Preists! Preists!” A lady stormed in, “I have this strange coin, of excellent craftsmanship, could you have it appraised for me?... Oh! Hey! How are those apples I sold you?” She asked. Zachery wavering his hand, in ‘meh’.

Inspecting the medallion, and it's devotion to the nautic hierarchy, the head priest returned sight onto the lady who's attention was kept by the barrage of unanswerable questions concerning her delectable produce. Then to the boy’s refined tastes. The glaze of doubt fell off his face upon the association. “BY SCALES! They are the Heralds!”

Zachery palmed his face. Sliding into Aaron's earshot, whispered. “Should we tell them?”

“Even if we did get a word in edgewise with these nuts... I think it'd be safer to let them go about their funny ritual and deek out first light we get out of that door.”

Seeing the lady out of the chapel, Brother Dagon caught wind of their whispers, and humbled himself to the guests “I'm so sorry, Heralds...” Coming back to them in full turn. “My treatment, has born you into murmurs, I am deeply sorry for my lack of diligence. Please, if you need a moment, I may need to atone...” Aaron looking towards the door.

“No... No, it's alright.” Zachery stood tall. “Best we get going with the... Proceedings...” A deep cadence rolling from his tongue in the worst Iambic pentameter that none of his drama instructors ever had the displeasure of hearing in person.

Aaron whispering back. “They just gave us the window, and you had to tell them to get going with it.”

Zarcheries bold grin turning into merely a wide one with less character. “So, where are your bathrooms?”

“No need,” Brother Dagon assured. “We'll have the ceremonial bathing at the end of the ritual.”

“I mean the toilets... You know, the room where you... Do... Your business.”

“Oh... N... Oh.” Creasing his eyes. “Yes, but... Why would you crap in the bath?”

The lesser priest piping in his diplomatic leaver. “Whhooo are we to judge Kaldpodian... Culture...”

“Ay... I must apologize, I am terribly sorry about my remarks, yes... They’re, over there by the stained glass portrait of Sir Gillian fending the Tabarians back into the depths... The, Tabarians obviously fleeting towards the side of the 'toilets' as is our tongue and cheek joke around here... In Sir Gillian's honour, of course... A politically commentary as is.”

“Appreciated...” Hastily finalizing their conduct before slipping into the indoor outhouse.

“You hear that?... He admired our work.” Brother Dagon chummed to himself.

Zachery was swiftly met with the common reality that many fine nations bore without the invention of plumbing. Yes... If you have ever been to a national park, oh, say fifty clicks from any sign of civilization, you too may have encountered such refined national treasures as the public rest stop. Zarchary looked high and low, and apart from the barred window, and what was either a peep hole or a glory hole, his hopes quickly diminished.

The main priest's face turned to confoundment as Zachery seemed to return just as easily as he had left. “Was it not to your refined of pallets?”

“No, um...” backpedalling into his iambic perturb-a-meter to refrain from offending his hosts. “You'd be surprised what else I could do in under ten seconds.”

“Ah!...” Smiling wildly. “Very efficient, Truly a miracle of such a fine nation. And you?” Looking onto Aaron.

“I'm fine.” Aaron replied

“Then, onto the proceedings!”

“How was it?” Aaron inquired to Zachery as the house set up their activity.

“They forgot to change out the little green tree, like, ten moons back.”

Smug to himself. “Ay...”

“Nerd... You already knew that, didn't you...”

“Look Zachery, their all ready for you. Even got you a priest with a chair and everything.”

“What stops us from booking it?”

“The medieval second amendment guy standing there at the door, and the fact that you already agreed to being some foreign dignitary. Best we can hope for is to not appear as spies and get this over with so we can dip our way under the door before the real guys show up.”

“You wouldn't hold it against a guy for going first, would you?”

“I'd hold it against a guy for keeping me waiting. With such hospitable hosts, you should smile, you might even enjoy it.” The smugness following out of Zachery’s sight as the lad walked up to the arrangement.

Seating himself, Zachery got himself comfortable. Aaron being seated next to him. Their priest bowed, calling out to his attendants. “Traut, Cril, Would you please...” The muffled street side chanting from earlier continued before them in stereo, as their head priest with two fish in hand, called out a distinct prayer. One which neither Aaron, nor Zachery hoped would be met by any real deity. Their dances followed a theme, one which transitions resembled that of swimming and references to a dance move from the sixties music halls. In a deep, vickerous roar that rattled his vocal chords, he spoke. “I, Dagon Macreel Von Freshinglein the third, Grand Fisheerear, Son of Dagon Nenimy of the same name, eighth descendant of mistress Salmona the frounder of the church. By these Ruebles doth mine authority declare to hereby appoint you, Kalpodian Herald, Blessed of the Holy Mackeral!”

Dawning upon the pea sized brain that he had, Zachery chuckled “Wait... Are all of you named after fish?” Before being properly blessed blatantly across the face with the bloody freaking mackerel.

Moving onto Arron next, who was getting his sick kicks out of the whole thing. Smack. “Yeah, I had that one coming.” Aaron confessed, having the blessing of the other fish. The odd responses of the two began to crack the resolve of their host. As prayers continued they were transferred to the square fountain in the centre.

“Now, kneel.” Both Aaron and Zachery complying to Brother Dagon’s commands. With a firm grip on the two, he commanded “Now swear upon it, and plunge.” Forcing the two into the fountain with the brute strength of a skilled chiropractor who also happened to be a body builder, cracking their backs free of charge.

“SHIT!” Aaron swore.

“FUCK!” Zachery swore, receiving the swirly of their lives, until reemerging both victors.

“ARISE!” Dagon called to them, “You have received your boon! Blessed be, the Holy Mackerel!”

“That's the whole process then, eh?” Zachery cleared the snoz and the stagnant pond from his windpipes. “Does it come with a gnarly tattoo as well, or a thirsting desire for blood?”

Tapping Zachery, Aaron tried to silence the continued bad luck charms that spewed from his friends lips, until Zachery started tapping Aaron back. Both becoming more fierce, as neither could grab the other's attentions. Zachery's attention fixed onto the front door. The sound of garbles and spitting echoing louder until Aaron's sight cast onto it as well.

Four, large, human sized fish wandered in, the legs and arms of men, with the body of a full fish attached. Their gripes and complaints sounded like that of men who's day were greatly inconvenienced by the airport security, and the immediate sass of a NYC Cab company. Looking onto the two by the fountain, their shock overtook the. Aaron's eyes widened “Holy Mackerel.” He uttered solemnly, the bleak sarcasm nowhere to be found in his voice. Splashing into the fountain, a fish swam, leaving a trail of ribonous material. Zachery spat the already displeasing water from his mouth a second time.

The fish men squabbled.

Their priest, Mr. Dagon shot out to the fishy freaks “Who in the shit are you?”

Their squabbles cut short, as the crew cut door guard returned from the crapper, placing the pamphlet aside the stand beneath Sir Gillian. “What the fuck!” Their fishy mouths spat out in a dismayed clarity at the egregious political mockery beside the dookhut.

Yanking Aaron up from the ground, Zachery pulled him aside, “I'm thinking this would be a good time to Jacob out of here.” Searching for a back door to exit.

Flustered, Aaron’s mind shut off “I'm thinking, I'm thinking!” While clearly not.

“Less thinking, more doing before the highlander here starts catching onto who got what blessing.”

Watching the anointed fleet out the back. “Heralds!” Dagon called out, the fishmen's attention being driven onto the fleet footed kids.

Zachery reaching for a chair to climb up to the window turned as Aaron made a heroic dive for it, busting through. Fear will do a lot of things to a man, and to one with experience in captivity, it's a nagging reminders supersede rational thought. At least for a little while. Zachery slid the chair in place as he ran for the orface, leaping out, and kicking the chair away to buy time. Their priest friends, hollering from inside.

Wiping the mud from his knees, Aaron scurried into the ally. A narrow space with a short end into the street. Zachery pushing him from behind frantically. Aaron hushing him. “It's only the priests who are onto us, act normal and we can walk out of here to the next ally.”

“Kids run all the time; places to go, people to see.”

“You see two highschool kids darting from ally to ally, what are they?”

“Probably stole something...” Complying cautiously.

“The neatest thing about a crime, is that no one else knows but us...” Aaron snickered. The rush finally sinking into him.

Making half the open street, a distorted grumble coughed upon the street “There!” Arron veered his eyes to the source, seeing the angered fishman and cussed under his breath. The people taking a sight to his odd form and body as he screamed out near incoherently before a stray priest who likely ventured from the front gate accompanied him. Aaron turned to Zachery, who already high tailed half a block from him.

“There!” The priest cried out. “Heldian spy, Apprehend him!” Walking up to the seated guard. “You! There's a matter of national threat running away, SEE! They’re clearly guilty, do something about it!”

“Yeah... Yeah...” Scooting off his rear into the street, he retrieved his horn, still moseying along as he did. Blowing it, the rattling deep echoes penetrated through the walls in a loud hurdle that was elicited by the public's cries... And even the surprised adoration of a few rattled women, from the bedroom window tops overhead.

In full tilt Aaron was making pace to Zachery. Ahead of them, there was a reply from the guard, as they could see a mounted archer returning salute. His horn much softer and higher pitch. Most people would take that as a medieval joke, but it actually has to do with audio waves, and not heiarchy. With his call, three men gathered at the walls, drawing out their arrows. Without any choice, Aaron deeked into the nearest ally, which neared the edge of town. Pulling out from one nook, their trail ripped past two guards who were flirting with the active waitress.

“Sir...” One of them shyly replied.

“Kids...” He replied smoothly. “They can't be in enough trouble to warrant me from my seat, I'm far too important to be a glorified youth councillor, scolding the youth, playing the badguy for their futures. This is how you raise a kid, with love, care...”

The armed guards in behind, “Heldian spies, GET THEM!”

“They'r fuk'en what mate?” Lifting his spear into the charge.

“Guess he's dipping out of his tab again, huh?” The tomboyish waitress remarked, cleaning his table.

Their backraod escapade landed them hot into a dead end. “How good is your climbing skills? Zachary inquired.

“Better than a guy in full chain and plate armour.” Grabbing the post victorianisk features of their enclosure.

Shuffling up, Zachary took to the other corner, both lifting themselves high enough that the enclosing brigade plastered into the wall as they leapt to grab a leg. The next wave climbing on the backs of the fallen. Aaron moved his footing onto the half meter protruding balcony that jotted out from the wall, hoping to ladder himself an easy step closer to the roof. The very rickety roof.

From behind Aaron could note the dozen angry men, with their mean scowls, and propped weapons ready to skewer the first of them that lost their footing. Even more amazing, a man laid down his weapons and ran for them. Leaping off the shoulders of his unaware friends he kicked off the wall like some kind of Jackie Chan movie, gaining height at an incredible pace. His last leap before Aaron landed on a faulty railing, which collapsed under him, sending another helpless soul into the brink.

Zachery found a well of strength within him but most likely adrenaline, as his ascent made good use of the protrusions his side offered, and managed to climb between the two adjacent roofs. One which was higher than the other. Grabbing the higher one, his footing could reach the lower. As his position was so awkward he had to push himself horizontally from the right on the flimsy wood tile on his left. The traction from this push allowed him to reach safty through the disjointed game of twister appeared as though it should do the opposite. Aaron traversed the balcony to Zacharies side and trying to mimic his motions. Zack lead out his hand as they could hear from below. “Crossbowmen! Crossbowmen! Where the hell are they?” And in the distance, two men entered the fray. Pulling the bolts from their quivers, they plunged the bows into the ground, drawing back the massive heft of their lines and loaded the peg launchers. By the time their sights met back to the sky, all there was, was blue and the hinds of Aaron who was now safely upon the roofs. At least until the arrows came past them.

“What in the hell is going on out here?” An old lady scowled, bashing her doors open, unknowingly knocking the few armoured travellers off her shallow balcony back down to round zero.

Landing on the lower roof of the neighbouring street, Aaron took on the shellshock of a brutal landing which cracked much of their inundated roofing material. Bowmen trying to catch up op top side of the city wall. Fortunately for the fugitives, they had the cover of a wood sign which gave them the time to think. The arrows twanged off, proving it’s ballistic protection but it was no time to rest. Having locked up the men in an ally, they had a lead on them and without the skills to scamper the rooftops they settled amidst the crowds. Taking their haste into the dense areas to avoid the rainfall of arrows as citizen shields bluffed their way to the, hopefully, cities gate past the plaza.

The mounted on the walls called out into the crowds from afar, their voices dim at that range but met some ears which halted. Their orders also leading the men at arms toward them. “If we had the time, a disguise would help us slip out of their sight.” Aaron passed along amid the oblivious couryard market. Slipping behind any carts or crates to try and break up their line of sight. He ignored the brash remarks of the vendors who's animosity sparked by their sneaking around his stocks. At the guards arrival, they shot out a loud holler into the court, which Aaron and Zachery took as their cue to blend in. With every soul stopped by his command, Aaron and Zachery lowered themselves out of sight in the outer ring of the population, scuttling towards the nearest exit. Attentively listening into the communications between the ground soldiers and the wall patrol. Hearing their time to go, as the soldiers neared into them beyond the ability to slip past; they made a run for it where their best distance could be made.

At the end of their ally, they hit a left, making for the gate which was still open. Weaving between the pedestrians the archers withheld their fire. The sweet aroma wafted past him, as Aaron turned to the middle aged baker, stealing a sweet roll in each hand. “Don't worry, they'll reach him.” Aaron pardoned as he dodged between the street. Without the blinder of the building, he could see men viable on his side. Not quite brave enough to see his other side, he and Zachery who followed aimlessly behind made a last ditch effort to the exit. Their bodies slim to the upper aim making difficult their precision. Our heroes met with the doorman, who smug as ever made it his duty to pester them per his hourly quota but was cut short. “Here's your honey rolls, no raisins, extra warm.” Aaron announced, both buns in hand, passing by as he delivered them.

“Well, I'll be. Wager... Hey, it actually worked.”

“Stop that thief!” The lady cried out.

“It's okay!” Hollering back across the bed of arrows to his favourite aunt “He brought them to me!”

“You dumbass!” Who was quite clearly flipping him off by now.

Turning the wall, the archers faced away from town, at the open field, expecting the spies to flee quickly. Aaron and Zachery finally emerging with some struggle with the other guard as he absconded with their shields. Shields which aided greatly in lowering the accuracy of their mounted assailants. As they travelled further down the road, the shots fired veered further and further off course and having made it out of range, they turned to see the full army, and their wagon boy too in hot pursuit half a click behind them. The difference ten pounds of metal chain can make on a persons stamina is an incredible thing.

Making it well into the treeline, they broke for the path they travelled in on. Distantly they could hear the trotting of hooves, and a thundering amount of them. Over the fence they hopped, making a run for the forest walls where the horses could not go, but not before being heckled. “Damn kids again! What are you doing in my cabbage patch?” Looking down at the shrivelled leaves and a dried husk of a cabbage fetus. Zachery approach the woman, and called to her in, you guessed it, his handsome voice.

“Woman, nay! Lady,” Utter poetry spewing from his lips. “Bountiful art thine locks and luscious thine fair skin. Your beauty grows as the flowers... Grow...”

“F... Flowers?” She looked about, all wind swept.

“Please, it avails me much, atlas, this burden bares me speak. Shall I die misurably having not renounced your beauty before they find me?”

“You?...” The flustered old bag, combed her hair.

“Ay, men, cruel men, cruel men which I beseach you to hinder! Lest a man so infatuated with your grace be cut down and slewen from this world. Please, maiden, pretell me this...”

“I ain't no damn maiden!... I'll see you inside.” The skinny, bumpkin replied as seductively as the fat roles on a beef brisket. “Do make yourselves at home... I don't know what he said but it sounded sexy as heck, I think he just proposed.” Finally someone who appreciated his devotion to Shakespeare. Given, very poorly to begin with.

“Alright Rasputin,” Aaron yanked his friend. “Lets ditch before they show up to the party” Taking the homestead as a blind spot from the approaching road until they made past the bushes.

Soon arriving the saddled spears and bowmen reached the shack, horses and all. Peering around the lot, they attempted to reach the door but were met with the hag in advance. “Hail, Mrs... We're here on urgent business.”

Scowling partly, she replied “You mind moving a smidgen to the side? My uncle is buried there.” Watching the horse move, and the grim on the pilots face. “The other side... Yeah...” Carter is planted there. Shit I hated that motherless goat. You hear me Carter? You back stabbing honey whore. Eat my porridge and call me fat, dumb broad!”

“We're looking for two young boys.”

“Yeah yeah, I saw them, tried to steal my cabbages, yes sir. Gala-ga-ga-la-la...vanting into the bush, sexy little asses following in behind him, yup.”

“Donkeys”

“Yup, stole them too, probably climbing the side of mount schetzschmere by now. Stole my horn too, you mind reimbursing me for the time being?” Looking at the horn on his side, and inspecting it.

“Back away.” The man demanded, turning his horse aside. Still holding onto his possession.

“Fine, it got a hole in it anyway, not like I can drink from it. Yeah... If you see them, send me their skins.”

“Are you... Smiling?”

“Why wouldn't I? Twenty three years old and I just got engaged.”

“Right... Check the back of the woods, I'll run the roads and double back.

Humming joyfully off key to herself, she wandered back into the room, removing her chest piece. “Aw, son of a bitch, left my dry again. How am I supposed to get this damn thing wet, if my helpers keep taking off before the laundry is done.”

The thick of the bushes were only a good cover because they were so thick you could barely move in. They found a nook which stretched between the heavy vegetation but by this time the soldiers had enough time to have caught up by now. Aaron dipped between a bare patch, into the next cover. “Halt!” Aaron's hairs stood firmly on end. Quickly pulling Zachery down to hear out the commands. “Don't stand up.”

“What did I do?” The voice answered. Nodding to Zachery, Aaron slipped past the interrogation.

“Well, where is he? There's two of you aren't there?”

Bashfully, the young man replied. “Well, sometimes... But, it's usually just me. He doesn't really come by very often.”

“Leave him,” An older soldier mentioned. “He's thin as the silk shoots out a spiders' ring piece, but he ain't bright enough to lie. Besides, he's dressed to peel the bark from a sightless tree. The report was of a foreign dressing and this guy spells hic from here to Ta'naskiss.”

The boys met back with the road, and scampered quickly along the path, ever weary of their ears and what sounds were coming around each bend. They found the stream which they rode in by, and made a crashing landing in the mud which they rolled off of. The rocky shore unimpeded their adrenaline fuelled rampage out of sight.

Listening to the return of the trotting, Aaron and Zachery hit the dirt, hiding under the short veil of grass which scarcely covered their sides. It passed by, moments later, they scurried up the hill into the grove and back to the anonymity of their woodland retreat.

Struggling to lift themselves any higher, Aaron collapsed beside the mound. Zachery huffing in behind him. Having left all sight of the cavalry, the nagging fear of being caught still dug into him as Aaron continued to scoot himself further from sight. “Yo... We're fine...” Zachary reassured. “Must... Must be like three meadows back and he totally missed us.”

“I still don't like it. Every time I thought we were out, something happened.”

Falling into the nook of a rotted stump, Zackery slumped into the sharp uneven seating before finding a more comfortable place to sit. He sighed heavily. Wiping the stress and crud from his face, while smearing rotten wood gunk instead. “After all this,” Zachery recalled, head to the sky and baring a dry demeanour. “Family seems like a real walk in the park.”

Aaron got a kick out of it, smirking at the simple subtlety. “Ain’t it though?”

“We just got chased by the Spanish Inquisition and the British Army all in one, and I'm worried about my bro telling me to get in the damn car? Holy Mackerel, man! Holy, Mack-er-rel” A thud hid the ground beside them, though both too tired to jump to it, another made solid contact to Aaron's face. Zack looked back down to Aaron, who sat there confounded, as the fish slid off from his face.

“What kind of sick...”

“HOLY MACKEREL! It's raining fish!” Having another planted firmly between his own eyes this time. “This really is a bizarre world we entered.”

“As if we didn't already have enough weird shit going on,” Aaron got up, wiping the scales off of his face. “Being blessed by some damn holy mackerel and all.” Having another bound off his forehead.

“You think those holy mackerel dudes actually had something?”

“I don't know, did someone shoot down a magical fish stork like it was some kind of pinata.” Just as confounded, Zachery laughed at his friend as Aaron continued. “Ah... What, nothing that time?... Oh... Holy mackerel, it just dawned on me.” Having the grace of a fish bounce of him once again.

“What...”

“Holy mackerel...” Continuing the river run of slapstick irony.

“Wait...” Zackery astounded, still uncertain if his eyes were playing tricks. Finally connecting one and one together. Oh yes, a couple neurons defiantly made sweet love that day when it finally dawned on him. “HOLY MACKEREL!” Embracing the love of the fish.

“What kind of weird enchantment is this, Is it a spell, or a curse or something? Will it ware off in like a couple days? I mean... Holy mackerel.”

“Holy mackerel!” Zackery continued, gandering to the miracle in the clear blue sky of fish.

“Holy mackerel!”

“Holy” Lightning stricken beside them, “SHIT!”

“Okay, okay! We're sorry, we're sorry! We'll stop!” Rushing back up the mound on all fours, to the safety of home, and away from the deity they seriously pissed off. “Two days, a week? Gotta wear off sometime right?” Aaron quantified. “Some kind of hoccusy poccusy broken wand shit, fish raining on our heads for a bit and after that we're good, right?”

“Maybe it's a blessing, made to summon an army of chaos and destruction upon our enemies.”

“Right, and the flounder act is just a joke coz they can actually fly through the air, right?”

“I'm just fed up with everything today! I'm about ready to walk up to my bother and slap his across the jaw with these fucking things! Guards, priests, fish people... Armies of... Angry... Squirrels.” Zackery remembered. Their path much dryer, feeling the slide of pine needles under his feet under the tall green grass. A single squirrel passing over head. The ominous hue of it's beady little eyes like something between the black of pitch and the darkness of his chem teachers heart. The claws of a seasoned predator, worn but still sharp and agile. For a moment it looked at him. Zachery felt the pit of fear fall into his stomach like he just swallowed the 'you-dun-goofed' fruit whole, seeds and all. And boy did he ever.

As it chattered, it arose. His old nemesis, like the brute in prison who was always there to rip you for everything you owned. Tattooed in scars and everything. Zachery starred into his fifteen inch tall standing rival, and shook his head. Zackery had begun to laugh. He laughed harder, and smiled. “I just came back from being chased by an entire army of spears and swords, being rained upon by arrows, and chased by horses, had to woo an ugly crone, and nearly struck by lightning. You... You're nothing” Getting the squirrels beef juicing. “That's right, I'm calling you out, you overgrown potato in a wig. Do you even lift, bro? Or you just fat on steroids? You know what you resemble?.... A furry, inflatable, football one kick away from a field goal. One filled with hot air, and doughnuts.

In retort, the squirrel had a lot to say back, casting nearly a fourty second long speech. All of which went over everyone's heads, and if I could speak squirrel, I'd tell you what he said. But by golly, you could tell, he was pissed.

Walking up to the challenge, Zackery sauntered up “I can't punt you across the field goal without getting closer, and you seem to be shitting yourself at the edge of the field so I'll start it then. You've made it easier for me to score this game.” Lifting his hand to the sky. “Holy mackerel!”

From then on out, it was a bloodbath and oh baby, was it a bloodbath.

“I should be pretty upset,” Aaron marvelled “I mean... We just got our asses handed to us by tree bound rodents a second time, and I have to carry you back home... But... I don't even think I'd have the courage to stand up like you did.”

“Yeah... You know, apart from the pain, the humiliation, Being forsaken by the mackerel, and all the rabies shots I'll be getting... Defeat isn't all that bad. I'm still alive, and the change in my standard for 'bad' makes everything else seem a lot easier to handle. Really... Really gets a man out of his head you know... When I think about what I've overcome, I kinda feel like the real winner here. I got out my angst, and shook fists on it... And if not for squirrel honour, I'd probably be dead by now.”

“Honour? The moment you touched down they dog piled you like it was halftime at the Superbowl.”

“A lot of shitty things happened today, I think I'm out for a while. Got to see some cool stuff too but... I'm not sure if I'm all that in it.”

“Me neither.” Aaron admitted. “The more I go looking, the more shit I get into. I want to get back on that horse, but I don't think I'll be having much of a choice on that. Still, getting home, settling in to a hot bath... Cracking a cold soda in the back yard... Sounds a lot more exciting now that I'm all worn out.”

“Hey, bro?...”

“Yeah?”

“I don't ever want to do that again, but... Shit that was fun.”

“Yeah, lets take a break from these adventures for a while...”

At the close of the day, they returned, cut and bruised, worn and tired. The cold door handle was a relief on his aching hands, and the warm interior was a comfort as they slid into the livingroom and fell onto the couch. Paul, caught up with his show until the commercial, finally turned to his company a few minutes later and laughed, “Did you piss off a gang of angry fifth graders?

Chapter end