Kingfisher: The Oneshots

Gilded Traitor - Haunted

A pudgy man in a white bathrobe stepped out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He had a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He froze when he saw them, and the toothbrush fell out of his mouth.

He glanced into the room behind him and called, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."

Coach Hedge did the obvious thing. He raised his club and shouted, "Die!"

It took all three of them to hold back the satyr.

"Whoa, Coach!" Jason said. "Bring it down a few notches."

A younger man charged into the room. He was dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that said cornhuskers, and he held a sword that looked like it could husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.

Lit zeroed in on Jason like he was the biggest threat. He stalked toward Jason, swinging his sword overhead.

"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine."

Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked wary. It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

"Coach," Jason pleaded, "they may be friendly. Besides, we are kind of trespassing."

"Thank you!" said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"

"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper said. "Coach, you first."

Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"

"No," Piper said.

"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."

"No!" Piper insisted.

"Meh." Coach Hedge lowered his club.

Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looked extremely cute. Leo glanced at Jason and smirked as he saw his jaw tighten.

Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl—fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."

"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."

The old man in the bathrobe sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."

Lit frowned. "Your Majesty—"

"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He did his best to smile, though it looked a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."

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

They were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Leo kept worrying the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Hopefully he was wearing golden boxers under there.

Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying.

Piper sat forward. "What our 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."