When the Lights Went Out #7

Chapter Seven

Dwarf [dwuh-orf]: A sturdy, stocky race of people who occupy the caverns below Bosom Peaks. They collect shiny objects and sell safe passage to travelers.

The witch’s cackling bounced off the last few trunks of Rubicon Point. Though Coyote looked back, the witch was nowhere to be seen. London kept walking up the short path between the trees and an imposing mountain range opposite. The tallest spire belched smoke. “That’s Scorching Maw,” London said, noticing the focus of Coyote’s attention. “It’s the only volcano in Bosom Peaks.”

“Interesting,” Coyote said, nodding toward where the path disappeared into a cave in the sheer side of the mountain. It was guarded by two stocky men. “Who are they?”

“The dwarves.” London shrugged, sticking his hands into his pockets as he and Coyote drew nearer the cave. “They burrowed through these mountains.”

“Great, so we can get lost in the caves next?”

“Well, they run a punch card system where you can get a pass through to the other side.”

“And?” Coyote stopped just out of the dwarves’ earshot. They were heavy set, faces creased with thick wrinkles. “What’s the catch?”

“You can pay for a one-way ticket each time,” the vampire said. “It’s a little more expensive for each trip but cheaper than paying for ten passes at once.”

“Can you afford another one-way ticket?” Coyote knew the answer.

London shook his head.

“Great. I don’t have another pair of underwear to sell.” Coyote strode up to the dwarves. Each gripped a long-handled spear. With any luck, their spears wouldn’t be impaled in Coyote’s gut. “Good…morrow fine sirs. Erm, what payment do you require to get us through quickly?”

“Great blustering bullocks, London!” one of the guards shouted. He scratched his braided beard with pudgy fingers. “Doncha know we can’t barter with a cosset?”

London shouldered Coyote aside. “I am well aware of that. But, you see, the thing is,” he turned his pockets inside out, “I don’t have payment this time.”

Both dwarves guffawed. “Di’n’t yer forebearer ever tell ya not to transpire if ya can’t come back through?” the other one, wearing stout overalls, asked.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure his mother told him to pay the piper.” Coyote waved London away. “But, you see, we’re kind of in a hurry.”

The rocky ground by the forest opened to the right of the path, and the three leprechauns emerged.

“Ah, we see what thy troubles be,” Stout Overalls said.

“So, can we please pass?” Coyote asked. He pushed between the dwarves to tower over Braided Beard. “What do you want?”

Braided Beard, about eye level with Coyote’s navel, stared at Coyote’s face before eyeing much lower. “What ’ave ye there?”

Coyote stumbled into Stout Overalls. “Nothing for you!”

“This, laddie.” Braided Beard thwacked a stubby finger against Coyote’s belt buckle. “It sure is shiny.”

“You…want my belt?” Coyote would’ve been less reluctant to part with the accessory if it wasn’t the sole reason his jeans stayed firmly in place. Without it….

“Yes, of course, take it,” London shouted, waving his arm wildly toward the path. “We have to go.”

Grumbling, Coyote obliged. Braided Beard’s greedy, grubby mitts snatched hold of the faux-leather strap.

“Alrighty, let’s go.” He entwined the belt about his neck much like a scarf, glancing at his companion, Stout Overalls. “You can guide the leprechauns through.” He winked at Coyote. “They’re paid through the end of the year.”

“Of course they are.” London dragged Coyote toward the cave.

Tired of being forced from one bad level to the next like an old school video game, Coyote ripped himself free to walk alongside London of his own volition. Coyote’s pants slipped down his waist from the force of it. The reminder of how thin he’d let himself become was painful. Only, his mother had it worse, and that notion was starting to trouble him. The echo of what he told the troll at the beginning of this journey rang through his mind, the words somehow hollower than the mountains that swallowed him.