Valkyrie of Desire

20. Don't Say Sorry

The Juggling Joker bows and pockets the stack of cups he has been tossing about.

"Go back to Spicesun, ya retarded refugee!" says a man from the crowd.

Others around the shame box grumble, growing impatient for better entertainment as the colorful Joker hops down.

Hands bracing her lower back, Hildr thrusts her belly forward and waves to the people as she steps onto the platform. Weather-worn and warped by age, the wooden stage creaks under her weight.

A young woman in the front shields her eyes against the sun's last rays. "Hag'Astache, who is your baby's daddy?"

Hildr flinches and forces out a loud laugh. "That's what tonight may decide!" She gestures behind at the aviary tower. "I am Hag'Astache, the Volcanic Vagina. Only a man that bests me may be my mate."

A chill travels up her spine as the last word echoes, and her ex-lover's eyes glow brighter. An obvious possibility she should have considered, what if that man has enough mind left to raise his hand or his companions do it for him? At least she said "may" instead of "will."

A quack comes from the opposite side of the platform, and Hildr turns away from Jax's gaze. Another quack, and she smirks at a balding man wearing a stiff yellow bill strapped to his face.

She clears her throat. "Quack?"

"Quack, quack!" The billed man hops against the platform's edge, more like a happy dog than a duck.

"Announce yourself, properly."

"I am Duckie the Egger!" He shakes strips of white linen tied to his arms and holds up a basket of eggs. "Can I challenge to be your mate?"

Hildr burps up stomach acid and spits. "By Phoenix's whim, you are too ugly to be my Duckie."

People jostle the costumed man and laugh. A few chant his name as a commotion stirs further back.

Hildr points there, singling out familiar faces. "Liam and Lowman, ladies and gentleman! The beta lovers of Hag'Astache approach!"

The crowd's chatter rises, and then they part. Agastache waddles through them like an empress, leading a procession of druids, including Liam with his arm in a sling and Lowman bare-chested with tattoos and muscles flexing.

The dwarf, Happy, cups his over-sized hands. "Looks like somebody learned the hard way not to shove a dwarf!"

Liam snarls but does not seem to have a line of sight to Happy through the townsfolk. Agastache taps the man's shoulder and whispers something in his ear. He holds up his hurt arm, and she spins her hands around it.

"Shit logs," says Hildr as the head druidess casts.

Liam's arm glows green. Agastache drops her hands, and the glow fades. He removes his sling, and as the crowd whispers, he straightens his arm and draws his signature copper-capped cudgel.

"Shitty, shit logs." Hildr fingers Agastache's necklace in her robe's pocket.

The head druidess leaves her procession and walks up to Hildr's side of the platform. "Are you alone tonight, child?"

"I heard a rumor the Pales are offering big bounties for ex-hosts." Hildr points at Happy, still standing with his group of brutal men. "I brought backup in case someone thinks to collect."

Agastache narrows her eyes. "Are your ruffians of the Scarlet Crusade?"

"Might as well be." Hildr crosses her arms. "Too bad you're a druid and not a shaman, or you could cast to check their aura and see how dangerous they really are."