Callie's Heroes

PART II: SOPHISTICATED MISCHIEF

Together, the three emerged from the darkness of the trees into the dim light. They entered the tent together, and if this world had records, you could have heard the needle scratching as everything went quiet, the music seeming to deflate as it died away.

Ignoring the staring crowds, Callie gestured towards the table with the rest of her housemates, seeing Tazrok scrambling to his feet, while Vanis just stared in disbelief.

“Hey everyone, you remember Juniper. She … thought it might be nice to enjoy the evening, too.“

“Hello,” Tazrok said, appearing particularly nervous.

“Uh … hello, Tazrok,” Juniper, fully aware of all the eyes that were on her. “How is your evening?”

“Good,” the Ogre said. “Can now heal people. Healed Blue Pixie when she killed Demon and mostly died.”

Juniper looked at Pixyl with a look of confusion and surprise. “Killed a Demon?”

“I shall explain,” Vanis said. As Vanis began to tell the story of the events earlier in the day, slowly the crowd returned to their socializing, and the music started playing again, but not as peppy as it was before. There were still a lot of sideways glances and muffled whispers, people wondering what to make of the pale-green Dryad, and wondering why she was here. A little ways away, Callie could see Xera, Galin, and Celeste chatting with each other, the Legate looking quite animated as he gestured towards Juniper while Xera tried to calm him.

Vanis finished the story, and Juniper had a shocked expression, before looking at Pixyl and then at Tazrok and simply adding a, “Goodness!” Quickly, she started to grill both the Ogre and the Pixie for more details.

“Vanis!” Callie whispered loudly to catch his attention. As he looked, she jerked her head in a follow me expression, grabbed her filled wine goblet, and led him away a little. “I want you to dance with her.”

“What? Why? Why is she even here?”

“She was hiding in the bushes outside, wanting to come in. And as for why? Three reasons. First, it’s because she’s a sophisticated lady and you’re a sophisticated gentleman. Second, because if you don’t it’s just a matter of time before everyone starts trying to hit on her.“

“What’s the third?”

Callie sighed, glancing at the Dryad. “Because, if you don’t dance with her, then I’m going to dance with her. And if I start dancing with her, then even odds I’ll probably end up waking up with her.”

It took a moment, but Vanis finally seemed to understand the innuendo. “Ah. I see the issue.”

“So,” Callie said, gesturing to the wide-eyed Nymph, “go offer her some wine, be a gentleman, and when the music gets going again, take her out on the floor to dance and show her a nice time for a little while.”

Vanis was still having trouble deciding what to do.

“Vanis, I need to go get yelled at by the Commandant and the Legate,” Callie added, gesturing to the three officers still in conversation. “So please, work with me here. I have a plan.”

Vanis glanced where Callie pointed, seeing what she meant. “You don’t need my assistance with them?”

Callie shook her head. “This was my idea, I’ll take the heat.”

“Then I do believe I shall dance with the, as you say, ‘sophisticated lady’.”

“Thanks.”

Vanis departed, returning to the rest of the group, while Callie took a deep breath, trying to center herself. She took a sip of her wine for courage, then a long gulp for more, and with a little trepidation, walked toward what was probably going to be an awkward conversation.

“... can’t have her coming around here making such mischief!” Legate Galin was finishing.

“Hi, everyone,” Callie said with a smile. “Great party.”

Legate Galin swung his gaze and glowered down at Callie. He was assuredly about to yell at her before the Major put her hand lightly on his shoulder. She whispered in his ear, but Callie was close enough to hear, “Mind your bearing, Colonel.”

That seemed to be enough to reduce the fire in his eyes slightly, and the rage-face was replaced by an obviously fake smile. “Good evening, recruit. Might you help us understand why there is a Dryad in this tent?”

“Sure. I invited her to join us,” Callie said in a perky way. She saw the briefest hint of an amused smile on the Major’s face, but just for an instant.

Before the Legate could respond, Xera interrupted. “Recruit, we have an agreement with the Dryad. She’s not supposed to be here.”

“I know. Juniper told me about your agreement,” Callie said. “She said the agreement was that she couldn’t interfere. She’s not interfering, she’s participating.”

Xera started to respond, but stopped, open-mouthed, as they realized the loophole. The Major let out a quick squeak of laughter while Galin’s eyes regained a very slight amount of the annoyance that had previously subsided.

“Let me ask you a question,” Callie said, taking advantage of the stunned silence. “Why do you think Juniper is always hanging around the camp? Why do you think she agreed to let you build here, but made it a requirement that she could come and go as she pleased?”

Nobody responded to the question, wondering what this recruit was getting at.

“Please, just humor for one minute,” Callie said, holding up a finger.

“Because Dryads are nothing but trouble,” the Legate said. “I’m beginning to believe it is only outdone by the trouble of Gnomes.”

“Nope,” Callie said, ignoring the dig. “Commandant? Major? Seriously, why do you think she made it a point in her agreement that she could be around all of you.” Callie was doing everything short of drawing a picture in brightly colored crayons.

“Curiosity?” Celeste said, deciding to indulge Callie.

“She’s bored,” Xera added.

“Really close, Commandant. Think about it, though. Don’t you all see? She’s lonely! So lonely, in fact, that she was out there hiding in the dark, just watching everyone and wishing she was in here with people. It was kinda sad, actually. She’s not here to make trouble, Commandant, she comes around because she’s looking to make friends, and either doesn’t know how to make them, or is too ashamed to say she wants them.”

All three looked down at Callie smiling back up at them while she sipped her wine.

“But wait! There’s more!” Callie said, excitedly.

“Oh shit, Callie. What trouble are you brewing,” the Major said skeptically. “I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

Callie grinned at the Major, the alcohol helping, before returning to her task. “Earlier this evening, I was seated with Trainer Eirlys. She’s the Sylvan trainer.”

“We know who she is,” Galin snapped.

Ignoring the cranky Elf, Callie continued. “Eirlys was telling us about her class that does plant magic. When I was talking to Juniper outside, I asked her what class she was, and she didn't know. She can only scry other people, not herself. But the powers she described are all based around plant magic too.”

“You’re saying she’s a Sylvan?” Celeste asked.

“I don’t know,” Callie shrugged, “but she could be. So I thought it might be worth someone taking a quick look with their scrying thingy, and maybe she could have a conversation with some of you. At minimum, we can all be polite and let her join the party.”

“You can’t be seri…” Legate Galin started to retort.

Xera held up their hand to silence their subordinate. “She might be a Sylvan, you say.”

“Maybe,” Callie said, shrugging again.

“Xera!” Galin said incredulously.

“Do you think she’d take a worm, recruit?” Xera asked.

“I don’t know. It didn’t come up. But if I had to guess, probably. She indicated that she’s sad about everyone else getting their powers so quickly, when she’s only unlocked a few in several decades.”

“Xera? You’re considering listening to this Gno…” the Legate started to say before Callie shot him a stare. He quickly cleared his throat “... recruit?”

“It’s a scry and a conversation, Galin. That’s all it is right now,” Xera said, still looking at Callie skeptically.

The Legate stared at Xera, and then at Callie, before turning his gaze to where Vanis was leading Juniper out onto the dance floor. “Major,” he finally said with a deep sigh, “your observation was quite correct. This little recruit is going to be an absolute handful.”

Callie had been taking a long sip of her wine and promptly choked on it.

“As I suggested,” Celeste replied.

Galin shook his head. “Major, when you have a moment, would you ask Thorn and a Scryer to find us in, say, thirty minutes. Tasi, too. For now, we’ll let the Dryad and the Prince have their dance.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Oh, and you, recruit, you’ll join us as well. Bring your new Dryad friend.”

Callie swallowed hard, trying to hold down the remnants of her coughing. “Of course, Sir,” she finally managed to croak out.

Callie returned to her table, where she found Lena had also returned from dancing and was being filled in by Pixyl as to what Callie had done, and why Vanis was off dancing with the Dryad.

“What? She was sitting outside in the dark all pathetic-like, Lena. You can’t leave a person like that,” Callie said.

“As long as you’re sure she didn’t sex-charm you to make you do something.”

Pixyl giggled, catching Callie’s eyes before pushing her hair back and looking away.

“No, she didn’t ‘sex-charm’ me. I don’t think, at least. Pixyl was there to protect me, anyway. Besides, Juniper might have a class that could be useful, so I suggested Xera and the others check her and see.”

“Wait, now you want to make her a recruit, too?” Lena said as she stopped pouring wine into one of the goblets. “The Commandant couldn’t have been happy with that idea.”

“They were fine with it, actually. The Legate was the one that was grumpy about the idea.”

Lena was about to respond, but a voice interrupted her.

“Excuse me,” the voice said. “Corporal-major Pixyl?”

The Pixie turned and the rest looked to see who it was. Bratig stood there, looking a little sullen and maybe a little worried. Behind him, a half-dozen other Dwarves, including both with pink bonnets, were there providing moral support.

“W-W-What?” Pixyl snapped.

“I know I said it this morning, but I really wanted to just come and apologize one more time. You don’t have to accept it, and I’d understand if you don’t. But I needed to say it again. I am truly sorry.”

Callie was about to yell at the Dwarf again, but Pixyl held up her hand to stop her. Then the Pixie changed her hand to a single finger, signaling Bratig to wait. She turned around while the Dwarf instinctively moved to protect his groin. Pixyl picked up the nearly-empty Fantasy Jack bottle and filled two shots. She turned, handing one to Bratig.

The Dwarf's eyes seemed to both relax and light up at the same time. “Thank you. I’d be happy to share a drink. Peace?”

Pixyl’s hard expression started to shift. It moved towards a smile, but then seemed to skip right over that smile, becoming an almost-creepy grin. She held out her drink and slowly started to pour it on the floor. Behind Bratig, there was a loud, “Oooooooo!” sound from those supporting him and they all seemed to take a step backwards. Those who hadn’t been paying attention suddenly took notice of what the Pixie was doing.

“Oh shit,” Lena said. “Pixyl, don’t do something foolish!”

Bratig looked at Pixyl with a shocked expression. Gradually, the shocked expression morphed into a surprised smile of his own as a crowd started to form around them. “Oh, lass. Are you sure you want to do that? It’s not going to go well for you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Pixyl said, shaking the last drops out of her cup.

“You may have received a medal for valor, but you’re going to get another one for stupidity for trying to take me.” Slowly, Bratig turned his own cup, likewise pouring it out onto the floor.

Another round of “Oooooooo!” went up. “Clear a table!” someone called out.

“What’s going on?” Callie asked as the way parted, Pixyl following after Bratig as he walked towards the just emptied table.

“She just challenged him,” Lena said, hurrying after, grabbing Pixyl’s booster steps.

“She challenged him? To what?”

“This be bad,” Tazrok said, having stood, shuffling after his tiny housemate.

“I thought for sure it would be you we would carry home,” Xin said as she walked by Callie, following the rest and shaking her scaled head in disbelief.

“What challenge?”

Lena set the steps on the floor and Pixyl walked up to take a spot on one side of the table. Someone had found a booster for Bratig, and he took a spot on the other side.

“You’re sure you want to do this, lass?” he asked. “You can back out now if you’d like. No harm done and no one will think less of you.”

Slowly, Pixyl shook her blue head, saying nothing and simply grinning that creepy grin. Her wings were on full display for all to see, an excited energy fluttering off of her and infecting everyone around her. This was her show.

“My money is on the Dwarf,” Callie heard someone whisper.

“We don’t have any money here.”

“Well, pretend money then.”

“You’re on.”

Kaisess, the Tigerkin Ranger, emerged from the crowd carrying two bottles of Fantasy Jack, followed quickly by a second person with a tray. Both bottles were set on the table, along with the tray, which held eight of the little metal shot cups and a small hourglass. Quickly Kaisess started pouring the amber liquid into each of them.

“I’ll lead,” Pixyl said in a clear, stutter-free voice.

Bratig shook his head, pitying the poor Pixie. “Oh lass. It’s your funeral.” Nodding to those behind Pixyl, he added “Make sure one of you catch her so she doesn’t hurt her wing again.”

Pixyl picked up one of the cups, and slammed the shot back. “Wooo!” she cried out as the alcohol bit briefly. She flipped the cup in the air, caught it, and slammed it upside-down on the table with a loud THUNK. She slapped the table in rhythm a few times before saying, “Your turn!”

Callie finally got it. It was a drinking contest! She looked at the profile of her friend, half the size and less than one-fourth the weight of the one she challenged. And she challenged a Dwarf no less! Callie may not have an encyclopedia of fantasy knowledge in her head, but one thing she did remember was when it came to booze, nobody could outmatch a Dwarf. Pixyl was doomed!