Chapter 29: Room Service of the Damned
Francis woke up the next morning, somewhat worse for wear. He looked down to see Willow sleeping with her head on his chest, her black tail wrapped around his ankle.
He frowned, looking at the strange, finely scaled appendage. Francis could vaguely remember catching sight of it when they first hooked up. But it had vanished before he could get a good look at it.
For a brief mad second he felt the urge to give her tail a good tug to see if it would retract like a tape measure or projector screen. But Francis didn't, because that was asking for trouble. (And would probably get him cock punched in retaliation.)
Willow was apparently self conscious about her tail, so he decided not to bring it up unless she mentioned it first. But he definitely had some questions. She had told him fauns had fae, demonic, and human ancestry. Perhaps her particular mix leaned more towards one side, judging from the horns and cute little devil tail.
Francis tried to slide out from underneath his sleeping girlfriend so he could go get some chow. Instead she slid with him. He considered his options.
Teleporting sounded fun. But he didn't want to risk hurting her. Also, she was using him as a body pillow so there was no way his sudden disappearance wouldn't wake her up.
“Babe?” He called softly. Her tail and ears flicked at the sound but Willow didn't stir. “I gotta get up now.”
Willow cracked one eye open and looked at Francis. Then she straddled him and pretended to go back to sleep. “Mine.” She said, wrapping her arms around him to drive the point home. They had hit the fae whiskey hard last night and Willow wasn't much of a morning person.
“Yeah, but I gotta get up.” Francis looked around for his canteen. They were in one of the palace guest rooms. At first Francis had wondered why everything was so clean. But later that night when he caught a glimpse of a golden skeleton walking the halls, the answer had become obvious.
The ornamental undead were inscribed with spells they could use to clean and maintain the palace. Zed had never bothered to turn them off. So they continued to perform their duties, keeping the palace ready in case of visitors.
Francis wondered if Zed had left the golden skeletons alone because they were harder to reprogram. Or maybe it was a bitch to get them running again once he erased their original instructions.
Willow yawned like a cat. “Last night was fun.” She said, “I wonder how the girls are holding up.”
“Eh, probably fine?” The last time Francis saw either of them, Julia and Shiv had been headed off towards the garden with a bottle of something old and bubbly from the palace wine cellar.
There was a soft knock on the door and two golden skeletons appeared holding trays. On each one was a glass of water, what looked like orange juice, and a selection of sliced fruit. They set the trays down on the table by the door, then left.
“Did you do that?” Francis asked.
“Nope.” Willow said, getting up to grab a glass of juice. The cut crystal was a step up from the wooden tankards and clay mugs Francis had gotten used to. She gave it a sniff then took a sip. “Oh, that’s good.”
Francis took the opportunity to get out of bed. He tried the juice and was blown away by the flavor. “Woah, what is this stuff?”
“Tastes like peach and tangerine, maybe with a little bit of strawberry.” Willow said, using her free hand to rub his back. “I forgot how good necromancer hospitality could be.”
Francis smiled at the image in his head of Zed running a bed and breakfast. He put his pink booty shorts back on and used a cleaning spell to freshen up. It was incredibly convenient being able to clean and deodorize clothes, even while he was still wearing them.
“I'm going to go for a run.” He said, finishing off his juice and grabbing a handful of berries. Francis wasn't sure if he could benefit from exercising. But that wasn't the point. He needed to know what his body was capable of, and routine was important.
“Have fun.” Willow said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “But don't get too tired.”
“Why?” Francis asked, trying to remember if they had something big planned for today. There was Julia and Shiv’s wedding to arrange, some stuff with the timber, but nothing too strenuous.
Willow leaned in to whisper the answer, nipping at his ear with her sharp teeth. Francis processed this new information. Maybe just a short jog today, he thought. Best not to overdo it.
Then Willow got back into bed, beckoning for him to join her. Francis shook his head and did as he was told. He could always go for a run later.
***
After a very pleasant morning romp and a shower, Francis went for a run. As he pounded the ground in his sandals and pink booty shorts, he began to notice a common theme. Almost everything here was circular.
The palace had a circular dome and outer walls. The garden was divided up into overlapping circles. Even the golden skeletons that maintained it all followed never ending loops. He wasn't philosophical enough to discern any meaningful insights from it. But he still noticed.
That bugged him. He didn't like coming up short. Usually he could let other people do the thinking. He had whole teams of specialists to break it down for him fuzzy puppet style and catch the things he missed. But he was on his own here.
Being alone and in charge was not a natural state for a grunt. Francis found himself wishing that he had someone else he trusted to do the thinking. Willow was smart, but she wanted him to step up and make decisions. She believed he should take the information she offered and make his own mind up. Too bad Francis’ mind was half scrambled at the best of times.
Running helped though. A simple repetitive task kept the brain weasels away and cleared the fog that came from too much thinking. He laughed at the idea of brain weasels. Chuck really was something else.
The simple truth was, Francis had been asked to operate outside of his current ability and comfort zone. “Fuck it, let's get uncomfortable then.” Francis grunted as he picked up the pace. It didn't matter how he felt about the situation, he was a Marine. Marines made do.
One of Francis' heroes, General Jim Mattis, had said that reading was an honor, a gift from warriors and historians. If Francis was going to become better, he needed to find a way to learn and retain new information. Luckily, System had shown him a way forward.
“System, what can you tell me about Vahnis?” He asked as he came to a stop.
A blue box of text appeared in front of him full of words like “ellipsoid” and “atmospheric”. That wouldn't do.
“System, please tell me about Vahnis. But do it in Grunt.” He said, unsure if System would be able or willing to accommodate him.
There was a pause as System considered his request. It wasn't unreasonable, and Grunt was a language it had access to. So, why not? Maybe it would even be fun.
The text box began to shrink as complex words were deleted or replaced. A raspy voice began to speak. Francis liked this new voice. It was the kind of voice he wouldn't mind drinking a few beers and bullshitting with after a long day. It reminded him of home.
Vahnis is a planet full of magic, and all other kinds of wild shit. It has a few continents, but the biggest is Malama. That's where you are now.
It has one moon, because two would just be showing off. That big bright fucking thing above you is the sun. Vahnis circles around that once every three hundred and sixty days.
The calendar is divided into ten months made up of thirty-six days, with six day weeks, because some of us don't get Sundays off. Days are exactly twenty-four hours. None of that leap year shit.
System is the fucker in charge of making sure you fuckers don't blow everything up. He's a hard-ass, but means well.
Magic is a thing here, even if it would be way easier if it wasn't…
Francis resumed his run, System’s new voice explaining things to him in ways he could actually understand. Yeah, this was way better. This was the way forward.