45: Xanadu in Green

  The road to Everyrosehasitsthorn was the softest Kim had ever trod upon. For it was made of rich moss, green as Kermit the Frog and thick as any 70s-era shag carpet. It had grown in a straight line towards the capital and as far as she could see behind her. She was caught up in the feeling of how soft it was, reminding her of the one time she borrowed her friend's Hoka running shoes.

  Soon other travellers passed her, waving their "devil horns" in hello just as Fiora had done when they first met. All the Balladrians were grinning wide enough to show their teeth, but not in a creepy way, just in a way that suggested they had a deep satisfaction with life and the world around them. "Rock until you drop!" One of them said kindly.

  Most of the travellers were shoeless, their sandals hanging off their belts. What sort of strange world was this where people walked on roads without shoes? But after several minutes of tromping along, her feet growing sweaty and sore, she slipped off her Destroyer Boots Of Major Metal Destructions and took a few steps. The moss felt as if it were massaging her soles and toes. She continued on, carrying her boots in one hand. It was a perfect walk. Her muscles were rejuvenating. And on top of that, there was a pleasant sandalwood aroma.

  She had three friends who were barefoot running zealots—it was all they talked about. Since she wasn't a fan of any religions, especially shoeless ones, she stayed away from their meetings. But if this is what it was like going barefoot through life, she understood their cult.

  A small bell rang behind her. She turned and stepped closer to the edge of the road to allow passage to a wagon carrying potted flowers. The horses snuffled and neighed softly, but their hooves made no sound in the moss. She wondered if their natural body productions were hidden by the moss. That reminded her of the natural varg body productions in her belt wallet, and she decided not to think about those types of productions any further. "May the rock be with you, friend!" the driver said, and Kim nodded.

  A thick thorn wall surrounded the capital, proving it wasn't without its enemies. She came to the open gates fully expecting to be challenged, and so she made sure her necklace was out of sight below the neckline of her shirt. Two female soldiers were on one side of the gate, in a thorny tower, and two men on the other. They all wore green armor that looked to be composed of metal overgrown with moss. They also wore bandanas, holding back flowing hair. Their longbows leaned against the wall behind them. Instead of the usual guarded, thin-slit eyes of soldiers, these soldiers had open, cheerful looks. One waved at her and the other visitors, and sang in a gravelly voice, "Take hold of the flame of life! Take Hold!" There was the faintest sound of music as Kim passed the gates. She gave them the devil horns sign and continued into the city.

  Once inside the walls, she discovered a series of rounded domes. Most of them were homes for citizens, though larger ones were clearly stores, and a few, with trees outside, might be churches. The city itself had been built around a hill, so that as she looked up the long streets of moss that lead in several directions, she saw above it all what she assumed was the main palace—a large series of brown domes, with another wall around it. Everyrosehasitsthorn was a Xanadu in green. She knew the song by Olivia Newton-John, because her mum sang, 'Xanadu I'm cleaning you' whenever she was cleaning.

  The sun was close enough to setting that lights, with thumb-sized fireflies inside, lit up the street from their position on living lamposts. If she weren't in Metaloria she would have said it was Christmas.

  "What would Damon do?" she asked herself. The question surprised her because she hadn't been thinking about him at all, or Fiora. She had the feeling Fiora might grab the nearest citizen and demand room and board. But Damon would find an inn, sleep, and then plan out whatever plans were needed.

  She stopped in front of a large two-storey dome: Coming Home Inn. She opened the thick round door, entered and stopped at a table, where the innkeeper was counting coins. He was very much the stereotype of an innkeeper, in that his paunch was round, he was balding and looked like he had tested nearly every plate that left his kitchen—which she admitted smelled divine. The hair on the sides of his head was long and thick, which gave him a bit of a heavy metal monk appearance.

  He looked up, smiled, showing bright white teeth, and burst into song: "Hello traveler, welcome to Coming Home Inn, Where memories linger, beneath the moon's gentle spin."

  A trembling feeling of panic built up in the back of Kim's mind. Was Balladria a land of musicals? Did everyone have to sing to each other?

  "Uh, uh, uh," she said. No song was about to burst forth.

  "Ah," the innkeeper put up his hand. "My apologies, dear traveler. I know I was out of tune on that last note." He drew in a breath. "How may I help you? And don't feel you have to sing in reply."

  "Great." She let out a breath. "I have what I think is money."

  She dug in her belt pouch, expecting this man to laugh her out of his establishment and back onto the street. But bravely and with only a little fear, she held out three of the varg dung balls.

  The man's eyes widened. "We rarely have such rich patrons under our humble roof."

  Rich? Kim wasn't certain if he was joking. "I'd like to get a room," she said.

  "Oh, you can have much more than that. Everyrosehasitsthorn is a safe city, but I wouldn't wave those riches around too widely, dear traveller."

  "Uh, can you take it all?" She asked, grabbing the other two from her pouch.

  The man's eyes grew even wider. "You would do better at the coin markets," he said. "They would give you a fair price."

  "I don't have time to go to the markets," she replied.

  "Well, I'll give you as fair a price as I can, and a room. Our best room. Our best food. Clean towels. A Coming Home blanket. The absolute best."

  "Oh, I need nothing fancy to—"

  Before she could finish her sentence, he pushed across about twenty gold pieces and a few silver ones and a golden key. She placed them in her belt purse.

  "Now, would you like breakfast?" the innkeeper asked

  "I thought this was dinnertime?"

  "Oh, no," he said. He drew air into his bellows-like chest and sang: "Breakfast at the Coming Home Inn, all day long, Where mornings blend with melodies, and memories grow strong. And the coffee is strong, too."

  "I see," Kim said, not pointing out that the song needed a bit of work. "An all-day breakfast joint."

  "That's our specialty," he said. "I will recommend the Harvester of Sorrow breakfast. It's so good, it harvests all your sorrow. You will love it. Now, please go settle in. Your room is at the end of the Moss Head Hall. Just say 'on lights' when you enter."

  Kim went down a hall marked Moss Head Hall, unlocked the large oak door to a darkened medium-sized room. It gave a sense of entering a warm cave, but the hall light didn't show the inside. She felt for a light switch, found none, and cursed herself for thinking there would be electricity in Metaloria.

  "On lights," she said.

  A chandelier on the ceiling lit up. It took her a moment to realize the light came from fireflies inside intricate glass jars. The brightness revealed a double bed covered with a blanket made of sewn leaves. The floor was strewn with a layer of red rose petals that gave off a light, heady scent. Vines grew around the window. They perhaps liked their plants too much in this town, she thought.

  Kim closed the door, took off her sword and ran her toes through the petals, which immediately invigorated her feet. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to like plants so much. She felt very much like any other time she'd entered a hotel room. That sense that the outside world was beyond her and she could rest.

  Her appearance in the nearby mirror or looking glass, whatever they called it, revealed the exceptional fullness of her hair. She looked taller. And her jaw had become more… more square. Her arm muscles were visible. Was she turning into Arnold Schwarzenegger? But younger and female?

  There was a vase with several Gerber daisies in it, and she leaned down to smell them, and they shrivelled. She would be offended, but the feeling of warmth in her necklace showed what had killed to flowers.

  The innkeeper came with her meal, which she devoured the moment he was out the door. She could not say what was in it because she ate so fast, but it filled her to the brim and centered her. It truly had harvested her sorrow or at least her hunger.

  She moved over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Like many people in a hotel room, she felt the need to tell others she was being pampered: Fiora and Damon. She reached for her pants pocket but found none since there wasn't a pocket on these trousers. She had been reaching for a phone. Funny, how her brain still automatically thought that she could text Damon. As if the iPhone part of her hippocampus was going to be the last section of her brain that refused to believe she was in a world without cell phone coverage. The hilarious part was she didn't even have his number.

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  Sleep was what she needed. It wouldn't hurt to close her eyes, she decided, leaning back into the two bulbous pillows. The covers were another kind of a soft leaf from an apparently large plant. The bed had a sewn, thick leafy blanket, but it didn't flake onto her hands. When she crawled under it, she was surprised to find it warm and comfortable. It smelled a little earthy, a little flowery, and a lot like sleep. She closed her eyes.

  Sleep came almost at once.

  What seemed a heartbeat later, she opened her eyes to find herself fully rested. It was as if every muscle had received a massage and every thought had been organized and every anxiety erased.

  A sudden flash of pain shot along her neckline and around to the back of her neck.

  Then, on the pillow beside her, a voice sang,

  "There is no rest for the wicked, my friend.

  I am your master, and the torment won't bend."

  46 Ultimate Rock Goddess

  Kim jumped up, pulled Strümbringer from the nearby sheath and faced the bed. There was no one there.

  "Who sang?" she said.

  "It is I, foolish mortal." The voice came from the pillow. She briefly wondered if it was Fiora, since she could turn invisible, but the dragonspawn wouldn't sing and it was a male who had spoken. Then she saw four waving arms.

  Technically, she corrected herself; they were legs. There were four of them because they were attached to a small spider, who sat on her pillow. The other four legs kept the insect balanced. She leaned in to squint and nearly laughed. For the spider had a human head, and that tiny human head had perfect hair.

  "Blayre," she said.

  "I am not my usual impressive self," the spider Blayre said. "This is the only form I could conjure. The accursed King Fidds has a clever spell that prevents me from visiting Balladria, so I took the smallest form possible."

  "Why shouldn't I just squish you?" she asked.

  Her necklace burned her skin with the heat of a forge. "That's why."

  "I get it. I get it!" She sheathed her sword and raised her hand. The necklace cooled down. "What do you want?" she asked.

  "I did not expect you to be the one to reach Everyrosehasitsthorn." He waved two of his spider arms, running both through his hair. It looked both ridiculous and, well, hot. Whatever spells he had for his Charisma even worked in this form. She had never seen such an attractive spider. "But you are now my weapon. The metal and rock moons are nearly crossed. It is time for the king to die."

  "I'm too weak to hurt him," Kim said.

  "You're gonna get close to him, and then I'm gonna get close to you." The way he said it chilled her to the bone. "Here is a small taste." He waved a leg that was not petting his hair. The necklace grew pleasantly warmer. A vision leapt into her head: she was in glowing armour, gripping a black blade in one hand and in the other a shield with a spiked amulet on the front. Kim was taller in this dream, and not just because she stood on a pile of the skulls of her defeated enemies wearing boots twice the size of her current pair. No, she was taller because her hair was perfectly poofed up on top and swirling behind her in a gentle wind. It was a thousand times better than grad night, when her mom had helped her to truly nail the Pouf. The image and feeling faded.

  "What was that?" she whispered.

  "That is the promise of the metal," he said. "I will make you a rock goddess. All levels climbed. All skills topped up. The most powerful woman in any room in all of Metaloria."

  "Could I really be that powerful and destructive?" she asked.

  "Yes. You will become Kim the Destroyer. The multitude will bow down before you. And those who don't will die."

  She saw herself again standing on the skulls. It was not an unattractive image.

  "And what is the price I pay?" she asked.

  "You will be briefly bound to me by magic. Then you become Metaloria's ultimate rock goddess."

  She thought again of the hair. It was too over the top. And the skulls, too. But as a rock goddess, she might be able to face Blayre himself. Plus, it would impress her companions.

  "Shouldn't we wait for my friends?" she asked.

  "Worry not about their endings," the spider said.

  "Endings? What do you mean?" she asked.

  "This glorious stab into the heart of my enemy happens now, without them," he said. "And you don't have a choice. I could just explode your head now." Spider Blayre had added a goodly amount of reverb to this statement.

  Kim drew in a breath. "I would like to keep my head."

  "Wise decision. Today is Don't Stop Believin' Day. Fidds actually meets with his subjects in the Headbangers Ballad Ballroom and helps them believe in themselves and their crops. It's disgusting to see someone waste his power so…so… wastefully. We will go now."

  They went. A few minutes later, Kim stepped onto the city street, a spider on her shoulder. The sunlight was bright, with the smell of the mossy streets in her nostrils. She walked up the hill towards the Dream On Palace. She didn't even have to ask for directions. It was obvious because there was a line of people—workers, citizens, women holding mewling babies—already marching in that direction. It wasn't the kind of mob that would gather outside City Hall waving placards; here there was a sense of celebration and anticipation. She joined the back of the line and slowly walked closer to the palace. That was why there had been so many travellers on the road last night.

  Spider Blayre hid behind a lock of her hair. She wanted to retch each time she looked over at the spider on her shoulder. "Faster! The gates will close, and you will be shut out." She could smell his aftershave and hair oil, despite his size.

  And as if to prove him right, a trumpet sounded and the crowd ahead of her let out a sigh. The gates began to close, and the crowd dispersed without a fuss, surely intending to return the next day. A guard was handing out muffins, and another had fruit.

  "I guess we'll have to come back tomorrow," she said. She thought of the bed, the room, the meal. Another day at the inn would be perfect.

  "No, find another way in."

  She stepped off the moss path, cursed at how the gravel poked into her feet, and pulled on her Destroyer Boots Of Major Metal Destruction. The walls were made of live branches interwoven in such a way that they formed a wall and rose into the air.

  She looked up. Pairs of guards patrolled the top, but were spaced quite a distance from each other. She heard a male guard laugh and pat his female companion's the back. Kim had never seen so many laid-back soldier types. "Keep going," Blayre insisted. "I will not be denied."

  It took a bit of walking, but she found a place where a portion of the wall was out of sight from the guards. If they had been patrolling, then she would have been easy to spot.

  "Climb the palace wall." The spider ran its legs across her ear, and she shuddered.

  There wasn't really a way out of this, so she put a hand against the wall. "Will the fortress itself know I am here?" she asked.

  "Of course," he said. "That is the sickness of this land. Everything is living. But I hope that it will see you as one of its children. Just don't let the necklace touch it."

  Only a few short days ago, though she was in relatively good shape, she would have looked up at this wall and said it was impossible. But here she was, stronger, with a sword and a magic horn on her belt and wearing light armor and with the best pair of boots she had ever owned. Climbing seemed very possible. Although death or imprisonment awaited on the other side of this wall, she grew excited at the challenge.

  "Go now," Blayre said. He rubbed her ear again with a leg, and she shuddered. She could see why Fiora loved to hate this man.

  She reached up, reminding herself she would always need at least three points of contact. The branches that formed the wall were still small enough in places to make it easy to grip them. She pulled herself up, set her boots, which gripped the wall with their teeth, and then pulled herself up farther. Soon she was five feet off the ground and feeling rather confident.

  When she was about ten feet up, there was a sudden sharp pain in her hands and her legs. Thorns! She thought as her hands, on instinct, let go. They had suddenly shot out and stabbed deep into any part of her that was touching the wall.

  She thudded onto the earth. The only thing that stopped her from breaking any bones was the soft ground.

  The spider floated down on a web, dangling above her. Blayre laughed. "Ha," he said. "That was hilarious."

  Kim's palms were bleeding. The other thorns had easily gone right through her leather boots. It hurt like the dickens, but no blood was pouring out. "I thought you wanted me to get over this wall."

  "Absolutely," Blayre said as he found his perch on her shoulder again. "At the end of your journey is great glory for me, but I can still enjoy your pain as you attempt this."

  She looked around, but no shouts or horns of warning came. Instead, birds chirped. And except for the pain in her hands and feet, she would have said it was a lovely day.

  "Well," Blayre said. "Now you know they are coming," he said. "So you can be prepared."

  "How do I prepare for getting holes poked in my body?" she asked.

  "Ignore the pain and climb, anyway. Now don't make me come up with another threat. Imagine all the things I could do and climb."

  Kim climbed. And when the thorns came, she quickly lifted her hand off and grabbed the next branch. Most of the time they didn't stab her.

  "There is a problem," she said, her breath tight and trying not to let the blast of pain cut into her. She could still keep her grip and didn't want to think about what her hands would look like when she was done.

  "And that is?" Blayre asked.

  "The thorns are getting thicker as I climb higher," she said.

  "So these will be more damaging and eventually fatal."

  "You don't have to sound so pleased." She was putting up with the pain, but a part of her mind was calculating how high up she was and how far down and how many bones would break.

  "Find a way not to die."

  The next thorn went right through her palm, but she quickly grabbed higher with her good hand. This was too crazy, but she didn't want to let go yet. One of these times a thorn would hit a nerve or an artery, and that would be the end of her.

  It was her next discovery that saved her. She slapped her hand against the wall and then pulled it right back. The thorn came out, and she grabbed it, pulling herself up, then slapped the wall and grabbed the next before the first thorn went back into the wall. She moved faster, and the spider wizard said, "Clever! Clever spawn." She felt a little pride at that, despite the source of the compliment.

  With this new method and concentration, she could use her newfound strength to climb higher and higher until she could see the top of the wall.

  "Oh, that's interesting," Blayre said. But she didn't know what was possibly interesting to him and couldn't pause to ask. Slam. Grab. The thorn poked out. She grabbed it, went up before it retracted and again, found a branch with her foot. "I completely didn't expect that." Blayre added. "But it is wonderful."

  A voice came from above. If the guards had spotted her and were waiting at the top, there was nothing she could do but climb higher and risk their attacks. She grabbed another thorn and another. Just reaching the top would be such a reward, even if it meant getting poked with a sword.

  A thorn stabbed right into the center of her chest. It was not deep enough to kill her. She knew that because her hands were still working. That is, they were grasping at air. The thorn had shoved her off the wall.

  Partway down is when she heard the voice again. Oh wonderful, they were going to watch her death. They wouldn't even have to lift a bow.

  "This is where I leave you," Blayre said, leaping from her shoulder, his hair floating in the wind. "Enjoy the crunch!"