Лилла Сомн – Coffee Stained Pages. Part 3 (страница 4)

“Aha. No funds for a meal but suddenly they are for a drink.”

Priorities. Bugger off now, people. It’s a harsh bloody necessity. As you see.

“No point harming our innocent body with idiocy. Ale is never a solution. It’s a troublemaker.”

Like all of us. All of us making up my restless mind. Dysfunctional capricious impostors. I’m about to cut us off my mind… Better than just sitting in our kotti or lying around spontaneously moping anyway.

A moment later, all Ami components were seated by the table in the establishment. Without most precious seed savings but with a full water pouch of ale and a pouch of nuts in blissful anticipation. Had to trade all the best-looking emergency stash. But it was worth it.

It was so warm here compared to the rain outside, and definitely warmer than at their dwelling. And the pleasant warmth was starting to spread inside already.

…Veeeeery welcome.

Amelia was still shivering slightly, the wet cloak was on and cold water dripped from her hair down her neck. But it was fine.

Voices were quiet while she was focused on the new taste and long-forgotten feeling.

The ale in the pouch was running low soon, though.

Time for another turn? No. Seeds were over… Oh, look! Some of them were miraculously stuck in seams of side pockets! Poor ones. So dear, so beautiful… You will be missed for sure. Well. Here we go.

Alcoholic drinks acted fast on Ami, who’d barely drunk in recent cycles. The pleasant state of intoxication was brief, quickly turning into heavy stupor. Not as heavy as those amnesiacs had… but still a tough one. Even if this establishment served deadly stuff. No worries at all. It was a good thing to forget all the troubles of her whole swampy life.

“Clearly time for home and bed. Off we go.”

Home? No. No “home”. Not now… Not back to gloom, darkness, and cold. Not again. Needed… a little stroll, you know. Don’t buzz, I’m fine.

Ami barely made it out of the place, practically crawling under its entrance drape, got out to the wet environment that didn’t bother her anymore and set off… seemingly towards the Forest. It was hard to say in the dark.

…“South of the mountain”, he’d said, huh…

She’d see the place herself. And draw her own conclusions. No one could stop her now.

And someone who tried it before could bite his rotten tongue, making no more dubious conclusions about her abilities. It was nothing but his conjectures…

…And she was very capable of proving it, starting her own investigation. Right now.

Light 40. The Honourable Count Crapula. Good Light to you

…Ugh. My head. I wish… I wish I didn’t have one…

Because moving it even slightly threatened to bring on the nausea.

…Goodness, why did I drink so much? What a bog-rotten… dedication.

Ugh. Never… Never again. Gnats…

Her eyes refused to open properly… Well… just a crack… just a peek… No.

…Damp. Cold. Shoulders and neck were dreadfully chilled… Why? Why does this always happen… Don’t. Don’t open your eyes. Ugh, we have to go to work this light!

…Gnat’s piss!..

Blood rushed to her head, nausea churning.

She touched her shoulders without opening her eyes. The rustling confirmed it: she’d slept in a wet cloak. But… under the blanket.

…Splendid. Utterly marvellous.

The entire bed had become a small lake. With a… what is it? No-no-no, close your eyes!.. Grass instead of seaweed… Charming.

This… would take some effort to fix. Later. Noooo. Better not to dwell on it now… It feels even worse with the blood pulsing in your head. Don’t. Don’t think…

“Ah… what’s in our hand… something… hard? What is it? Something… ghastly?!”

No, close your eyes! It hurts… Now we know. Gracious… it’s a… vine.

“A… what? Where did you get it? Intriguing.”

I don’t want to know… My head is a boiler. And my hands… They’re… scratched and scraped up to the elbows… Oh my gnats. Where had I been? Don’t remember a thing.

“The Forest.”

Ah. Right. The Forest… supposedly. Scouting. Sort of…

“Well, at least we’re home.”

Right. Like a true Kantinian… How we managed it remains a mystery, frankly… Doesn’t matter.

“But… Are we… alone this time?”

Blood rushed to her head again when she forced her eyes open.

…Phew. Alone. Definitely. Wet. Scratched. But alone. What’s the… ache in the knees? Bruises?

“Yes. We temporarily forgot we’re bipedal.”

Nice. And… What about my face? Those gravel chips seemed awfully close to it recently… Seems… to be fine. Nice…

But good thing she was intact. Bruises and scrapes aside, everything was present and correct, and hadn’t lost its shape.

Hope the mushroom was intact too. They were such splendid things!

Well… Nothing happened, nobody saw anything… Otherwise, frankly, better to die right here.

“Well… Look. We overdid it. A little. Soon it’ll all be forgotten.”

And better forget that night entirely, and swiftly. For the sake of Amelia’s throbbing head. And all the witnesses should do the same immediately. Especially… if those witnesses are Truth Station personnel themselves… Oh no.

“If you wanted to prove to Milo and the others you could either get yourself killed over nothing or heroically extricate yourself from self-inflicted messes – you’ve done it. But let’s just hope he never learns of such heroic valour.”

Right. Quiet-quiet… And… Shut up, incidentally… Splendid! Absolutely splendid… Unlikely she’s fortunate enough that no one saw her? No way she is…

…Oh. No.

“What? Ah. We climbed onto a landmark mushroom… Was it… even real?”

Not sure… But it had seemed a capital idea at the time. I… remember looking down at the city. From the springy, slippery cap… Ugh… No. That can’t be true… They’re too tall. Impossible to climb. Must be an intoxicated dream.

Have to get up… Somehow. Bruises… Lots of bruises, by the feel of it…

“And… this song, that’s been playing in the background of our mind almost from the moment we woke up.”

What about it?.. Ugh. We sang it. Right.

“Yes. And very loudly.”

…Please. No. Spare me.

“Quite an expressive performance it was, I must say. With wails and sobs and everything. Hence the unopenable eyes. They won’t lie.”

Something vague stirred in her memory… The daftest songs, but they’d seemed utterly fitting at the time…

No guarantee it wasn’t past the Temples, but who knew… If there was a mushroom, anything was possible… Gracious. Oh dear.

Her imagination conjured dreadful scenes, blood pounding in her temples.

…Oh my gnats… No. Hope it was deep in the Forest at least.