misplaced || l. valdez

25 || jason is a show-off and mari gets insulted

° ~ •. ♆ chapter twenty-five ♆ .• ~ °
"jason is a show-off and mari gets insulted"

"Midas? Impossible." Coach Hedge said. "He died."

They were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Mari was sure that the old guy uncrossing his legs would be more terrifying than anything else they had encountered so far.

Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and Mari and flexing his muscular arms. He winked at Mari, and she could feel herself blush a bit.

Piper sat forward. "What out satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be— sorry— dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."

"Interesting." The king gazed out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looked like a cluster of children's blocks— way too clean and small for a regular city.

"You know," the king said, "I think I was dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"

"A very long dream, Your Majesty."

"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."

"But how?" Piper asked. "You don't happen to have a... patron?"

Midas hesitated, but there was a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"

"We could kill them again." Hedge suggested.

"Coach, for the love of god, stop threatening people." Mari said through gritted teeth. "Why don't you go outside and release some steam."

Leo coughed. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."

"Oh, yes." the king said. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!"

He fished a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and pressed a few buttons— a pass code, Mari assumed.

"There." Midas said. "Safe to go out now."

Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me..." He winked at Jason meaningfully. Then he pointed at himself, pointed two fingers at their hosts, and sliced a finger across his throat. Mari mentally face-palmed. What subtle sign language, she thought.

"Yeah, thanks." Jason said, scooting away from him.

After the satyr left, Mari tried for another diplomatic smile. "So... you don't know how you got here?"

"Oh, well, yes. Sort of." the king said. He frowned at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."

"The oracle." Lit said.

"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugged. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit— it's short for Lityerses, by the way— horrible name, but his mother insisted— Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."