Crysalis: Merrill's Tale

Sourdough Bread

Of course, even with all the Muttville protections in place, the boys and I had made certain sure we weren’t followed from the last Circle station—we’d taken two more short rides after the first, and doubled back once—before we ventured across the Lonely Bridge and then up to the Muttville Front Gate. Thirteen sat outside the Gate on his little stool, smoke rising from Uno’s pipe while Dos coughed—she’s allergic to smoke—and Tres snored.

“Wake up…”

“…sleepy heads!”

Tres snorted and opened his eyes. His are a beautiful blue that used to be called ‘sky’ back in the day when there was such a thing above us instead of rocks or starts, but now tend to be described as ‘deep water’ blue. Uno has brown eyes, and Dos’ are a gorgeous pale silvery grey. When they’re all open, it’s a beautiful sight, believe me.

“Mendel! Boys!” boomed Uno as he took his pipe out and knocked the bowl out on an ash-smeared rock. “Have a good trip?”

I coughed myself at the acrid smoke and felt my usual sympathy for poor Dos.

“What do you have in that thing, Uno?” I asked. “Aged grasshopper pellets?”

Uno laughed and the sound echoed down into the c***k and back up again. I swear, I could feel my braid blowing in the wind. “Mendel, you know very well I can’t stand those crawlies! Hoppers are disgusting! This is good clean goat dung, of course, the highest grade, with some blue shrooms added for flavor and texture. Tilly makes it for me special.”

Dos spat and sneezed and coughed again, and Tres dozed back off. Tres didn’t get his fair share of brains when they got handed out, so he sleeps most of the time. Sometimes I envy him. If ignorance is bliss, then it follows logically, rationally and ipso facto that brains must be a burden. Sometimes I think mine are. The boys’ brains are definitely more in the range of a danger.

“Good to see you, Mendel,” Uno said. “Find anything interesting this trip?”

I opened my mouth to make a polite reply, but the boys were in first:

“She almost got cooked…” Darwin said, his hands on his hips.

“…but we saved her…” Newton continued as he pulled out some trinkets for Dos, who loved shiny things.

“…at the risk of our own lives…”

“…as usual. She’s getting slower and dimmer…”

“…with age. Soon we’ll have to…”

“…lock her up for…”

“…her own protection.” Darwin finished by pulling out a loaf of sourdough bread he’d stashed in one of his multitude of bags and giving it to the official Muttville Cerberus. Uno grinned and tore it into chunks to share with his siblings. “She’s really a burden for us, poor old thing.”

“And if you believe that,” I said as I pulled some dried fish from one of my bags and handed it to Dos, “I’ve got a nice little plot of land right in the middle of Lake City I’ll sell you cheap.”

Uno laughed and Dos giggled. Tres snored.

“Granther came by earlier to ask if I’d seen you three,” Uno said. “Message for you from Outside, Mendel. Sounded urgent. Better get moving.”

“Thanks!” I said as I patted Tres on his shaggy head. It’s considered thoughtful to bring gifts to the trio, not to mention polite. “Hope he’s got some soup on the hearth.”

“When doesn’t he?” Dos asked in her lovely, dulcet soprano. “He brought us a whole gourd full just a while ago. It was delicious.”

“Thanks!” I yelled over my shoulder as I raced the boys down the pathway that led to Granther’s cave.

They won the race.

As usual.