Chapter 61: Don’t mention it

Chapter 61: Don’t mention it

Mason reached his house slightly before dawn. Streak collapsed outside, slurping from his water bowl before slumping to his side with some kind of snore.

Mason could relate. He practically smashed his way inside, drinking and eating from a collection of things on the table before staggering to his bed. Then he was mostly disrobed and staring at the ceiling as Haley woke and stroked him, helping him with the boots he’d apparently forgotten to take off.

“Rebecca,” he said, forcing his mind to last a little longer.

“She’s fine, my love, she knows what happened. And she and I had a little chat.”

That woke him up a bit, at least.

“Good?”

Haley crawled into the bed beside him wearing her usual t-shirt and panties, and the feel of her warm skin against his practically made him groan with exhausted pleasure.

“Good. But you’re right, she’s very gentle and sweet and innocent. And also so lovely.” Haley sighed. “Just be patient with her.”

“Patient,” he agreed, his eyelids fluttering.

“You should take her to your dungeon tree,” Haley suggested, and Mason blinked and stared at the ceiling fan as something like excitement swiped at his brain fog.

“That’s...” he grinned and met Haley’s eyes in the dark. “That’s a good idea.”

But then it was also risky.

Rebecca had done well at the pool, but dungeons were different animals and God only knew what might happen. But still...they’d be gone for days, together just with Blake and one other person, with lots of time to talk...

“Sleep now, my love,” Haley cooed and cuddled into his side.

For a moment Mason’s mind just filled with the wonderful, sexy, clever woman that was Haley. But he was too damn tired to do anything about it. So he pulled her to him, and slept.

He dreamt of ragged refugees. He dreamt of pirates and gnolls and orcs and wolves all hunting them in the dark, too many to save, too many enemies to stop.

They opened distended mouths like zombies in some cheap horror flick, howling and laughing as they pulled innocent people apart.

Mason didn’t know them, so he didn’t care. And yet every death felt like a personal failure, every fallen person another reminder of how inadequate he was. But why was it his bloody problem? His job? Why should he have to do anything for anyone other than those he knew and loved?

Then some kind of giant creature stared down at him from beyond the canopy—like a moving mountain made of wood, or a walking tree. He saw a dirty, homeless looking wild man chained to the giant’s leg, mumbling something incomprehensible as he gnawed at his own flesh.

Wake, young buck, whispered a familiar voice. It is too early for druid dreams and the Endless Green. Too early. Much too early. Wake. Wake.

“Wakey wakey.”

Mason jerked his eyes open and practically sprung from his bed with Ranger’s Claw in hand.

“Jesus. Calm, brother, calm. You’re at home. You’re safe.”

Blake was in the doorway with Haley. He had a brow raised but Haley’s face was all concern as she came forward.

“Not the nights,” she laughed. He met her eyes, and spoke quietly, knowing without a doubt now he could never choose.

“You know I’ll never give you up, right?”

She kept her smile polite, but he could see the pleasure in her eyes as she kissed him chastely on the lips. “I do now. I’ll see you in a few days. And you too, Blake,” she said a little louder.

Mason took his gear and walked out beside his brother without another word.

Rebecca, Seul-ki, and Streak all waited outside.

“Good morning,” Rebecca said with the same polite tone Haley had. She was dressed like a cowgirl, all jeans and leather with a tight ponytail, and just damn sexy as hell.

“Morning,” Mason tried to defeat the careful tone with a warmer smile.

Streak growled slightly, looking as tired as Mason felt. He was on his haunches, tongue out and eyes glazed.

The ever-polite, impassive or perhaps stoic Seul-ki bowed slightly and looked...impassive. Or maybe stoic. OK Mason had no idea how she looked.

He noticed a small group of people he didn’t recognize were waiting nearby as well. They were staring at him, and they approached slightly but waited until an older man approached all the way.

“We just wanted to say thank you,” he said, fingering some kind of satchel in his hands. “For saving us. I don’t know what would have happened...if you hadn’t come.”

Mason wasn’t great with strangers. Or thanks. Or praise.

“Don’t mention it.”

He was about to walk away when the older man cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“We, uh, wanted to give you this. It’s nothing, really. Just a...well, a toy, officially speaking. It’s from Ayala there, she’s from Kazakhstan, and she made it in the forest. Something you would give to a friend, I guess. It feels a little silly now, but, she wanted you to have it.”

Mason winced slightly but took the package, nodding and smiling at the group of people behind.

“Course. Thanks. You don’t owe me anything. Happy to help.”

The man and the group all sort of bowed or nodded or whispered their thanks at varying times before scurrying away, leaving Mason to look back at Blake with no idea what to say.

“You’ll want to improve at that.” His brother looked at him with a pained expression. “Half our new arrivals can’t stop talking about the heroic woodsman who slaughtered orcs like a legendary hero. So you’ll get plenty more well wishers.”

Mason managed not to groan at the thought, partially because he was a little touched, and partly because he wasn’t at all unhappy Rebecca had seen it and looked impressed. He cleared his throat.`

“Well. You’ve all got plenty of water?” They nodded. “I don’t know how long this’ll take, so it’s better to be prepared. You’re all ready for mortal danger and violence?” Again they nodded. “Alright then. Here we go.

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