Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Ch 10 All Of Me

  Under the snug roof of Gandree’s house on the weird Ward compound by the ke, Daisybelle wandered aimlessly in a misty and endless forest, lost in her dreams. Movement in the impenetrable fog and faint, whispered voices told her she was definitely not alone in this pce. Even so, she felt no fear or even wariness at all.

  A warm feeling of welcome and acceptance filled the forest, soil and sky, almost begging her to linger and explore in safety. Whatever the source of that slow welling sense of welcoming and love was, it felt all pervasive and guileless…

  On reflection she recognized the feeling after all… She’d felt it the night she had leapt into Gandree’s arms, beneath the SmilyFace of the goddess. The one her boy had carved above his lonely camp in the mountains, that cold night.

  “Goddess SmilyFace?” She called into the trackless forest all around.

  “No, my child…” Someone unseen whispered softly. “Sister Cowl, goddess of Joy…” The warm and soothing male voice paused for a soft and amused chuckle. “Your SmilyFace goddess is near, but she will not approach you until our business is done, my little huntress.”

  “Well… come out, then! Silly creature, I have other dreams to explore here, I’d not waste time.” She snapped merrily, tapping her foot and repeatedly gncing at her wrist, the way her King Papa always did when he wanted someone to know he was waiting impatiently.

  “You are a sassy one, my sweet.” The man who stepped from the mist was tall… Outrageously, impossibly tall, towering over her by at least two man-heights, before taking into account the vast rack of antlers that sprang from his forehead in faintly luminous splendor.

  “My friends spoke of this… and of you.” Daisybelle murmured up at the titanic man, his face concealed behind a mask of leather, bark, oak leaves and moss. Only his mask, antlers and golden, chaotic, swirling eyes of mbent energy were truly visible, she realized, his form was insubstantial and misty, only appearing to be physically present.

  At his heels sprang a pack of enormous, shaggy and lean wolfhounds. Dozens of yipping, grumbling and growling wargs amused themselves, the pack swarmed and gamboled, pying around their master’s feet in joyous, unrestrained abandon.

  “Yes, he did. At my request. I am Cernunnos, Lord of the Hunt, fae King of the Wilds.” He announced warmly, nodding his expanse of antlers carelessly among the treetops. “We are already very closely aligned, my dear. Will you take Contract with me and become my first follower of your kin?”

  “Hmm…” She muttered up at the divine being looming above her. “I don’t gruk Contracts and bargains, this for that and tradsies…” She sighed after a moment. “Talk pinly, ‘Nunnos.”

  The vast being gave a soft huff of amusement, sending a cloud of warm vapor billowing from the nostrils of his mask. “I’ll let one you trust do the bargaining, then.” He murmured with another graceful tilt of his head.

  An instant ter, a dark, shaggy form leapt from the pack, crashing down on the tiny goblin girl in a joyous pounce, followed by a thorough licking.

  “Nightshade!?” Daisybelle gasped, as her friend growled, gently mauled her, rolled and wrestled around just as he always had, since he was a pup.

  ‘Yeah, boss…’ He snuffled and whined, once her face was covered with dog drool. “Sorry, boss. I fucked up bad… real bad.”

  Daisybelle buried her face in his warm, doggie stinking ruff of fur and sighed sadly. “Shut up…. You were a good good doggie… And that human is feeding the bugs in the swamp now.” She bit his ear and gave it a tug, that was all the scolding she could bear to give her goofy mutt.

  ‘You can trust this guy…’ Nightshade murmured softly. ‘He serves the Beast, god of all life.’

  She gnced up at the towering entity above her, who was watching silently, his mask somehow seeming to smile. “If I say yes yes, can Nightshade come back with me?” She asked weakly, tears flooding her eyes.

  “No, my child. He will spend some time among my pack, before he finds his next mortal life, but he cannot return to the mortal world. That is not among my powers, not even the god of Beasts can simply return a mortal to life.” He smiled again, warmly and gently.

  “We are of the natural world, where death is a prelude to re-birth. We may not tamper with that cycle carelessly, for it is who we are and is our pce in the great cycle of creation and entropy.” He spoke very slowly and calmly, easing her pain with his firm and quiet voice.

  “Others may deal with the undying, deathless or undead, such vileness lies outside our pervue.”

  “I can’t come back, boss… but maybe in my next life…” Nightshade whimpered, licked her hand and settled down in a big warm puddle of fur at her feet, inviting her to lounge on him, as he always had.

  “Maybe.” Daisybelle sighed, as his warm fur embraced her. “I accept you, ‘Nunnos… We can get along.” She purred, as natural sleep overtook her, lost in that warm, doggie scented fur.

  She woke, tangled up in Gandree’s arms, with her pack snug in the bed, smushing them all together with warm, doggie comfort. “What a weird dream…” She muttered to the tiny, brown and white puppy nestled between her boobs.

  “Good morning, Hemlock.” She murmured to her first true familiar, as he yawned and tried to bite her nose.

  /

  “No way, I know it’s crowded, but we can’t fit you all in the main house… If we stuff one more of you in there it might really get weird.” Becky insisted to the small swarm of not quite, but nearly identical men and two women standing in the garden.

  “Garies! Seriously, there’s a lot of you and you are each adding just a little more chaos to the mix…”

  “Becky Becky… That will never never work with Garies.” Daisybelle’s sweet, merry voice called from the garden gate, where she, Gandree and Ghnash were just entering from Wilf’s pce. Daisybelle had a fluffy puppy tucked in her coat, his curly hair and floppy ears flying as he tried to look at and smell everything at once.

  “You gotta get their attention, before you can get them to py nice.” She already had her macabre, ogre skull instrument on her hip, when she started drumming and whistling, a change came over the crowd. Her tiny passenger howled along in time and on key, from inside the spinning, dancing goblin girl’s coat as she brought the mob under her King Papa’s control.

  “Oh! Bossa nova! Nice!” One of them mumbled, before a second drum joined in. Soon flutes, guitars, harps, lyres and stranger things emerged all around, as a smooth, tin fvored groove took hold.

  Several dozen human men, a few women and more than a few beastfolk swayed and pyed together in an ad hoc, but astoundingly tight, free-form jam session. Even more uncanny was the extraordinary resembnce each bore to the others, even or perhaps especially those who were not human.

  King Ghnash leapt up onto a garden table and took the lead, pying his flute of ogre bone and dragging the band into a bit of Jethro Tull.

  Walking through forests of palm tree apartments,

  Scoff at the monkeys who live in their dark tents!

  The vast chorus of eerily simir voices took up the strange lyrics, sshing through the still, misty morning like a whetted bde.

  Well, let's bungle, in the jungle!

  Well, that's all right by me, yes!

  Well, I'm a tiger when I want love,

  But I'm a snake if we disagree!

  The Star somehow found himself singing lead, as usual; swaying and gyrating his hips on Ghnash’s makeshift stage. All around, other Garies were getting really into the weird and complex song, with its violent, driving beat and savage, animalistic vibe.

  The lyrics were no help at all, thundering through the trees and across the park, setting dogs barking and babies crying, while the sun was still touching the mountain peaks.

  Yes, the King on His sunset lies waiting for dawn…

  To light up His Jungle as py is resumed,

  The monkeys seem willing to strike up the tune!

  “How long will they go on like this?” Lindsey asked Barry, who had a guitar in hand and was pying along, beside his brothers.

  “We could go all day…” Barry sang between bars, Smiling beatifically and swaying along.

  “Don’t bother them, Lindsey, girl.” Kree buzzed softly in her ear. “The Fool will be back soon, until then, let them follow Temperance. He will keep them contained.”

  She nded on the girl’s ear and gently tugged at the tender lobe. “Come on, let’s go find something sweet… for your horsie.” She lied weakly. “They put the lid on the sugar jar too tightly again. My human servants are so clumsy.”

  “Or did mistress Shai lid it tightly to keep you from over indulging?” She asked gently.

  “Shush! It never was so!” Kree compined. “I’m a big girl and can get candy whenever I wish! It’s Mariah…”

  “Sneaky, sneaking sneaker!” Mariah sang sweetly, as she fluttered up to perch on Lindsey’s other ear. “Don’t believe Kree! I’m a dryad! Mighty and eternal! I can have candy too!”

  She did a swift, buzzing pirouette around Lindsey’s scalp, before alighting on her ear again. “Do my bidding and I shall reward you, human!”

  “Are you girls trying to distract me from something deeply weird and uncanny?” The tall, slim equestrian asked gently.

  “Not at all!” Kree stammered and sputtered, nearly tumbling into Lindsey’s colr in her denials.

  “Just don’t look back… keep walking to the kitchen, human girl.” Mariah urged, sounding much more mature, suddenly.

  /

  Gary and Shai woke to the first few notes of birdsong, an hour before dawn. Floating at anchor out on the ke and snug in their cabin aboard the family yacht, Moonrise, they took a leisurely morning just for themselves.

  They stretched, showered and climbed back in bed for a snuggle; which resulted in the need for another shower… Which resulted in the pair running the ship’s fresh water tank dry, ending their shower ‘prematurely’, just about dawn.

  The pair squeezed into the steersman’s hammock chair together, once they managed to stop pawing at each other and get dressed. Gary set course for home, a scant hundred yards away across the tranquil ke and gently urged the little ship into motion and life. “Be that yer music, d?”

  “Yeah… Well, actually it’s Jethro Tull, Bungle in the Jungle… Sweet track! A little sharp edged for today…” He yawned mightily and scooted just a little closer to his sweet dread pirate. “It’ll be fine, I’ll take over when we get ashore…”

  The song was still running as the Wards moored up on the pier, unobserved by any of the entranced participants in the weird show that was going down. The Garies were circling back around the chorus and leaping to random verses, belted out by different faces, all in the same voice, almost. They were still really tight, following Ghnash and the Star into a pce that only musicians know; they were in a groove.

  A woman with Gary’s face and a vicious scar over her left eye, above a fine pair of firm, bouncy tits was singing lead. The woman howled the savage and cheerfully threatening lyrics at the sky, showing glimpses of sharp, pointed, inhuman teeth.

  A long, orange and bck striped tail drifted behind her, while her wild orange hair and tiger striped ears twitched and thrashed, lost in her performance. Cws glinted at her fingertips, where she clutched her flute of yellow monster bone and silver, the fine instrument falling silent for a moment, while she attacked the vocals savagely.

  Just say a word and the boys will be right there,

  With cws at your back to send a chill through the night air!

  Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?

  Thunder and lightning couldn't be bolder!

  Shai tried really hard to avoid looking at the men and women on her wn, never mind the goblin, the spider and all the others, each one bearing, to one degree or another, her husband’s face…

  Even the spider; it was unmistakable, something in the way the creature carried itself seemed to be the very image of her husband, with eight legs and eyes. It was pretty unnerving, especially in the morass of eldritch, swirling, seeping, creeping energies that entwined the dancing, singing musicians.

  Gary slipped right by and into the house, where he spent an inordinately long time selecting an instrument from his collection. “I really want Forest’s Breath, my old recorder, but Wilf has it…” He mumbled, as he searched for just the thing.

  “Ah! Perfect! I knew I kept it!”

  He turned around, proudly holding a violin of deep red ironwood, with old fashioned wooden peg tuners, the kind he hadn’t used since he’d mastered the crafting of bronze geared tuning machines.

  Careless Whisper; Contract instrument, Violin, string css. Quality, Unique. Enchanted, unknown rank, unknown/null Error! Uncontracted user.

  Effect, Heartstrings: Gifts enacted or influenced through instrument are difficult to detect and/or resist. Scales against targets; Rank, Will, Mind and Animus. Minor ongoing mana and stamina cost. Simir and complementary effects from non hostile sources gain bonuses to effectiveness, wielder not excluded.

  *Notice*

  You are not Contracted with this non-sentient magical construct, access to Contract functions denied.

  “Let’s see what we can make of all of these… all of me.” Gary sighed. “Gods, my life is weird.”

  /

  Ghnash felt a tugging at his musical spell, the one he had all the Garies tangled up in so securely. Many of his brothers could have extracted themselves from his bindings with ease; while some few others could have ended his spell with a simple flex of Will or Animus… None could so easily or subtly take control of his working and steer it off in another direction...

  A direction Ghnash found himself headed, along with all the others, despite his half hearted attempts to shake off

  the spell. He couldn’t bring himself to cut the magical thread, spun so finely around his own Will, dragging him along, as someone took control of the show with firm and skillful hands..

  Heads snapped up throughout the crowd, as the more subtle or powerful among them felt the contact and an influence touching their souls. None of them dropped the beat or wandered off key, even as whispers began spreading between notes and chords.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Sonic magic…”

  “New Gary…”

  The whispers cut off as the new direction took firm hold and there was no time, energy or sonic space for idle specution.

  So wide you can't get around it!

  So low you can't get under it!

  One nation under a groove!

  Gettin' down, just for the funk of it!

  Parliament Funkadelic’s ‘One Nation, Under a Groove’ took hold of the massed booties and started shaking them into a new formation, dragging the whole mob along for the ride, not that they were unwilling…

  The non-Garies watched from the patio, as the men and women who had been steadily trickling in from the woods all night, went on a mystical journey into complex rhythms and innovative time signatures.

  Barry and his brothers were out there in the mess, dancing, pying and singing the strange songs with all the others. So many others. Lindsey’s insides tightened up with a cold, clenching fear, as she began having difficulty telling them apart.

  “What is this?” Lindsey asked Amy, who had her own guitar on her p, idly strumming along with the band. “Did he just sing about a ‘Maggot Brain’? What kind of lyrics are these?”

  “It’s my papa, Gary.” She shrugged. “There’s a lot of him… and they all like P-funk.” She answered calmly, as though that expined anything at all. “They will be back to… I can’t really say ‘normal’ but they will be alright soon.” She assured the worried girl, hugging her close.

  “Yes yes… is funky jam sesh, much magic and weird music. Is good good for them.” Daisybelle gasped, as a ripple ran through her muscur torso, shimmying her assets in time to the music. “Ooo, The Clones of Doctor Funkenstein… let’s dance!”

  The music slowed, becoming pintive and mournful, but streaked with passion, zest for life and a desperate refusal to submit, as metallic, wailing guitars took over the strange song. Daisybelle’s tiny, calloused green hand took Lindsey’s and dragged the much taller girl out into the scrum. “Like this, sway and just ride the groove…” The goblin girl moaned along with the odd, wailing music.

  “It’s weird and strange…” Lindsey gasped, feeling lost.

  “Nub nub, just rex and let the music take you, this is the dance, the Space Groove.” The goblin sighed, as she csped her hands above her head and slowly unduted her body to the slow, writhing music. “I would give you some mushy-mind mushrooms to help open you to the groove, but you are already barely holding onto reality.”

  The slim, muscur and stacked little beauty wove her sinuous dance among the musicians, slipping between them and pausing to dance with one or another as she passed.

  Lindsey followed in her wake, attempting to emute the moves her little friend was dispying. The leggy young equestrian ss jumped a little as strong, warm hands nded on her hips and Barry’s voice whispered in her ear. “Rex and let the music move your body, Lin.” He sighed, pressed up close against her as they swayed, his guitar slung behind him, forgotten for now.

  In his arms, she felt safe and warm, secure and desired… she lost herself in the sensation of his chest pressed against her back and those strong hands gently holding her hips from behind. Her heart stirred as her belly warmed, his touch ignited something in her…

  “Yeah, that’s it!” She moaned softly in his warm, strong arms, when she felt her backbone slip in a strange but not uncomfortable way, unintentionally rubbing her bottom against him… And the music had her, drifting, lost in a sensation of intimacy and bliss, with her boy held close.

  “What does ‘GloryHalStoopid’ mean?” She asked in his ear, as she wriggled up and down his body, pressing herself against Barry in ways she would normally be shocked and embarrassed to even consider.

  /

  Becky, Ivy and sir Pangbourne watched from the patio, safely outside the effect that was rampaging across the sprawling, garden jam sesh.

  The band wandered from funk to rock, back around to jazz and country, before dipping right back into motown and more funk.

  Beyond the swaying, singing mob, just outside the ring of active dancers, numerous rawhide hoop drums were propped up on tripods, with Gary’s face painted in many variations. Each image sketched in simple pigments seemed to move and sing, voices and instruments joining the chorus from unknowably far away.

  “Are those drums… singing?” Sir Pangbourne asked quietly.

  “Yes…” Ivy whispered harshly to the frazzled knight. “They work much like the portraits that the dukes and high nobles use to communicate across great distances. Now shush!”

  “They made those yesterday, from common materials, in an hour or two…” He whispered again. “That’s impossible!”

  “Yeah…” Gary said softly, from right behind the worried man, startling a soft squeak of dismay from the man’s lips.

  “Completely impossible… And they even work between worlds, through the veil between realities, when the stars are right and enough of me is nearby.” The madman smiled deviously and winked at the unfortunate nobleman, then, in a blink, he was gone, slipping among the dancing men and women, who engulfed him back into their swarm.

  “Was that Gary, or one of the other… Garies?” Francis Pangbourne asked weakly, when the fool had vanished.

  “I really can’t be completely certain at this point.” Count Liam answered calmly, with a nod to his wife, who was smiling at the scene from the taut skin of a simple hoop drum painted with her face. The priestess looked out from a sketch of her visage, drawn with a brush in primitive pigments, her expression one of wonder and joy.

  “That was our Gary. I’m certain, because Lady Dana is throwing a fit right now; since she is watching this unfold through my eyes.” She replied, her voice clear and distinct through the magical construct. “It’s a bit disconcerting, but this experience is long past due, I think.”

  She paused for a moment, considering some inner thought. “No, my dy. I will neither interrupt, nor cease watching this event… and I shall not be doing any penance for my disobedience, either.” She snapped at some unseen person on her side of the mystical drum.

  “Darling, are you arguing with your goddess right now?” Liam asked sweetly.

  “Yes I am, husband.” Tawny replied with an icy edge to her usually warm, golden voice. “Please butt out, dy Dana and I have some matters to address, while she is compelled to listen…” She once more turned her attention inward for a moment, speaking sharply to her unseen conversation partner.

  “Yes, I am! And I will continue, until you understand how much trouble your foolishness has caused!” She paused again, gring at something far away.

  “Goddess or no, this scolding is long overdue!” She barked, as the watchers withdrew from the furious, one sided lecture.

  “So… lunch?” Amy asked sweetly, as she rose to head into the house. “I’m starving and the Garies will be going on for a while yet.”

  “So when does this big meeting begin? The one with all the astounding revetions and secrets exposed?” Sir Pangbourne asked wearily. “That’s what I came for.”

  “They are already doing that.” Wilf answered quietly, from behind the bass guitar he was pying.

  “Now they’re discussing next steps and possible outcomes.”

  “Wait, I missed the expnation?” Liam asked, sounding worried. “I kinda tuned out when they started singing about ‘The Clones Of Doctor Funkenstein’...” He admitted.

  “Seriously?” Amy scoffed at the count. “That was the whole point! The battle against sir Nose Devoid-of-Funk is a perfect allegory for what’s going on!” She shook her head and sighed. “Normies…”

  “Now, Amy…” Rio murmured in his sister’s ear. “Count Liam is doing his best with what he has.”

  “Now look here you brats…” Liam began, grinning foolishly as the Ragamuffins began to py their favorite game, teasing the old people.

  They would continue their relentless baiting and sass until he surrendered by calling out the traditional forfeit:

  “Hey you kids! Get Off My Lawn!”

  Only when Liam was forced into acknowledging his ‘old man’ status would the game end. Today he had more important matters in hand, so goofing with the kids had to wait.

  “Too easy…” Amy compined, when Liam surrendered immediately.

  “Kids, I’m hoping to get some straight answers from that mooncalf, after all these years. We need to keep on task.” The count decred soberly.

  “I didn’t even bring my pipe with… me.” Before he finished his sentence, a lit pipe, filled with delicious smelling herb was smoldering at his lips.

  “Gary!” Liam coughed, after a few puffs, just to be polite. “I’m serious…” He giggled inanely, as warm, resinous smoke wreathed his brain in fluffy softness. “Ok, I’m a little less serious now…”

  “We’re wrapping up, bro, then we will get down to business.” Gary breathed a vast smoke cloud into the sunny, mid afternoon sky and smiled at the birds wheeling high above.

  “I’m a pretty weird guy… No matter which one of me you talk to.” He mumbled airily, seeming lost in thought.

  “Oh! Hi Tawny!” Gary waved at the priestess’ face sketched on a drum head and smiled. “I pn on settling matters with dy Dana soon, then we can talk in person again.”

  “Gary…” Tawny muttered in a distant roll of thunder from her drumhead. “Be very careful when it comes to ‘settling matters’ with my goddess.” She gred at him fiercely from her rawhide and wooden construct. “You have… Priors.”

  “Don’t worry, Tawny. You’ll still have your goddess when I finish with her. I’m using soft power… now.” He smiled wickedly and ughed. “Lunch should be entertaining… I can’t wait to talk to that spider guy.”

  “Gary…” Tawny interrupted his idle musing with a firmly spoken demand. “How is Shai handling… all of this, all of you?”

  Gary reached out and turned her drum stand a little, giving her a better view of the dance floor and of Shai, swinging elbow in elbow with Gree, the tiger woman and the Star, with Wheel of Fortune waiting to cut in.

  Ghnash was calling a spirited square dance from a garden table and conducting the band with his long yellow flute of ogre bone.

  “She’s doing fine, I think.” He mumbled. “I’m starting to feel a little weirded out though. I’ll keep you in the loop. We have a few more guests coming and I’m still trying to meet all the Garies…”

  With that he was gone again, swept away on a tide of deeply strange magic, lost in a crowd of himself… himselves… or something.

  /