Havoc - Piper McLean

20: Your Midas touch on the chevy door

"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insisted. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"

Before Camilla could decide if she wanted to explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opened at the far end of the room.

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 four of them to hold back the satyr. "Whoa, Coach!" Jason said. "Bring it down a few notches." 

A younger man charged into the room. Camilla guessed he must be Lit, the old guy's son. 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 was handsome with scars running all over his skin.

Lit immediately zeroed in on Jason like he was the biggest threat, and stalked toward him, 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're trespassing in their house."

Camilla quite liked the chaos. This goat version of the PE Coach was much more fun than the one making them climb ropes and run miles in torture worthy temperatures.

"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?"

"Oh I like how he thinks" Camilla grinned. 

Piper glared at her and Coach with such intensity, Camilla held up her hands apologetically.

"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 good looking in a way Camilla never managed. 

Jealousy. She reminded herself. Jealousy, that's what it was. That's what she'd been feeling last night. 

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."