Rule 12

Silk is Valuable & Spiders Aren’t

Statement: What is it about being in another form that makes it difficult to think clearly? When I’m Hawthorn, I want to stay as Hawthorn, even if that means having a constant stream of perverted thoughts in my head. Those are simply treated as fuel for the next available opportunity with a willing partner.

Being Mister Underwood is much the same. Is it an innate desire? Is it part of the magic of those forms? Is it related to the fact that creatures were killed and are somehow using my body to continue life? Or is it something much simpler and more annoying—that I don’t like being myself. Who I had been—before this new world—didn’t amount to much. He’d hardly lived life. Is this what people who play games feel?When they have a chance to make a new character and leave their old lives behind?

Weird occurrences weren’t unusual. They were so common that pigs flying could have been considered normal, and weird would be ordering a pizza. I hadn’t shared with them my recent bus trip or even mentioned the flower petals on the signpost still faced my direction.

Leon and Callisto were in a heated argument. Allegra sat calmly next to me. She didn’t seem to care about our size difference or the fact that her teammates were inches away from pummeling each other. I wanted to root for Callisto but the Lance part of me believed she needed an occasional punch in the face. She always acted as though her ideas were gospel.

That was the bitterness of our original breakup coming out. Technically, our current status was ‘co-workers with benefits.’ Not that she knew I was Hawthorn. Based on their conversation, none of them knew I was the dryad-bodied man.

Post Note: It’s such a weird description. I was a man, but a dryad. Without a tree. Unless you counted my penis. Which, might as well be accurate. It certainly qualified as hardwood from time to time, but it hasn’t sprouted plants or encouraged any growth but its own.

“I can’t believe you want to work with him,” Leon said casting an armor-clad finger in my direction. His gauntlets jangled more than the rest of his gear. The sound grated on me.

“We need the help. He’s clearly strong enough. Look!” Callisto gestured to the fractured ground. “I don’t care who it is as long as it helps us achieve our goal. We. Need. That. Weapon. He can get us past the door. You saw Allie’s map, there’s no other good way in. And if we make it through this, maybe he’ll be willing to fight the other ogres.”

“We can get past the door. We don’t need a monster. And Hawthorn will fight the ogres.”

“Hawthorn’s dead,” Callisto insisted. “He was just as much a monster as this guy. You trusted Hawthorn, so trust this guy if we make a deal.”

Leon dropped his weapon and shield then pulled off his helmet, slamming it to the ground like a football. “I trusted him because he’s Mayor Kent’s son. I had to. You know that. You trusted him because he split your legs every night and you think that puts you in control.”

“Because we needed him. If it kept him close, so what? That’s what I do, I take care of everyone in any way I can manage!” Callisto responded.

I wrinkled my nose and huffed. The best part of their shouting is that I now knew, for sure, that they thought I was dead. Or that Hawthorn was dead. Thinking of myself as separate individuals confused me at times but this way I’d be able to see what people thought about me.

Additionally, without a shape change I’d never know that they were using me. I mean, I knew. It was obvious. It wasn’t like sex meant we were in love. I’d learned that lesson with Callisto once already, before the world transformed. She did believe sex put her in control. She did believe she knew what was best for everyone.

Allegra leaned over slightly and whispered, “Can I tell them?

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked.

“That you’re Hawthorn. And some other, person?” Her full lips twitched.

A shiver traveled down my spine. Allegra knew. Her sketching powers must have somehow presented my name and displayed images tied to me. The idea that she could essentially track me from anywhere served as a cold reminder of how versatile her powers could be.

Post Note: At this point, I told myself that it wouldn’t matter if Allegra knew about me. Secrets got out. Midge had said they want to be told. I could put more thought into popping their heads like grapes, or simply accept that if someone knew, then it was a shared secret—after all, there was value to a secret shared.

“That would ruin my amusement,” I said while pointing at them.

She giggled and nodded.

The duo in front of me covered a dozen different topics. Arson’s rear stuck in the air as he dug through the cart. He obviously had no interest in their screaming match. I felt impressed that Leon and Callisto had so many reasons to argue. They’d never done this when we grouped together.

I should have followed them more. It would have been hard to find time between learning about the area, killing ogres, compiling secret stashes, and watching over Stella. Balancing my time in this new world, where we didn’t have the internet to simply review social media commentary, or cars to drive around quicker, had proven difficult.

Callisto moved on to calling Leon a gelded turtle, with more uncouth terms. He called Callisto a female dog. She insulted Mayor Kent, calling him a short-sighted liar out for his own safety and implied that the only reason he wanted downtown was for control. Leon’s response was to sputter like a child, take off his gauntlets and throw them to the ground too.

“It still seems wrong,” Allegra said, keeping her voice low. “Lying to them.”

“I fail to see how knowing who I am, would achieve the goal we’re here to accomplish.”

“But if she knew you were alive, she’d be better. She’s been tearing herself up for days since I showed them what happened.” Allegra shivered.

I shrugged. “To keep a secret, or tell the unvarnished truth. Either carries risks. What action might they take upon discovering a duplicitous nature?”

That stopped her from talking. We had all hidden parts of our lives in this new world. Allegra’s was tied to the stack of robes she wore. What lay under them, I’d never seen, not even while sneaking. I’d seen Leon out of armor more than I’d ever seen Allegra without a robe.

She did change them. I knew she hadn’t been wearing the same clothing since we’d met. They changed colors once or twice a day so either she was putting new ones on, or there was magic in the ones she wore. Neither would surprise me, since I’d seen pieces of paper come flying out of the robes during battles.

I pondered where to go with this line of thinking. While I had firmly set myself on not advertising the link between my forms, I couldn’t outright lie about it either. Deflect, equivocate, use political doublespeak, sure; but not lie.

“What gave me away?”

“The book. Whenever I sketch you, I see the book. The others have a harder time remembering because of your abilities. We, used to work with a young girl who was a rogue. Hardly anyone even knew her name. They just, forgot. But I have pictures still, and I can sketch people’s cards. Didn’t you know?”

She must be speaking of Little Shade. Unless there had been another sneaky female running around town who died before I came back. There could have been dozens.

As to her commentary, I shrugged. There had been implications in the past that Allegra knew how much money we all gained, but I’d never directly confirmed how she knew. Most of the time she called it out after a tough boss battle. I’d been more interested in murdering monsters than wondering how she read my information.

“So, I see all your names. Here.” She pulled out a piece of paper and held it up. Lead spiraled across it, drawn by multiple unseen hands. Words formed that were impossible to make out, save for one. It showed my name. Lance Hawthorn Underwood. Next to that were three titles. [Runed Rogue] was still on there, along with [Knife-Eared Exploder] and now [Gentleman Ogre].

“Those are strange titles,” I said.

“They’re all weird. It’s like every single one is a pun or some awkwardly phrased explanation for what we’ve become.” She brushed back a strand of hair and pointed to [Knife-Eared Exploder]. “That one showed up after you—Hawthorn—blew up.” Allegra’s voice lowered even more. “Right about when we’d finished demolishing their breeding hotel, and ran.”

I nodded. That was a fitting description of what I’d done. Titles could be lost too, which I’d learned after the hydra respawned. There’d been a [Wanderer] notice before that. It’d vanished after leaving the stores.

“I can’t tell what they do. If they’re like equipment, or add value to our abilities. When I try to use my powers to sketch it out they don’t do anything. They’re nothing.”

Callisto’s words grew louder. I looked up from the paper to find her glaring at us. She had her hands on her hips and puffed a strand of unevenly cut hair out of her face. “Allie are you wasting mana?”

Allegra took a sharp breath then the picture on the paper shifted to show the physical status of Callisto and Leon. There were some spots with filled in markers, jagged lines crossed a small part of Callisto’s pencil drawn chest.

“No, I was checking to see if you needed healing,” the blonde answered.

“Broken rib?” I asked, jabbing a meaty finger at the picture of Callisto then pointing toward her. They were fully clothed in the pictures but I’d managed to catch Allegra working on these before.

Allegra nodded and put two fingers into the painting. She could cause nearly anything to be drawn on the covers and modify them by sinking her hands into the picture and changing the artwork. She’d never let me actually watch the process before.

Speculation: Maybe she felt the need to share or open up after admitting she’d been spying on me. I’m unsure, and haven’t asked.

Callisto grunted and clutched her side. Her eyes shut and the jagged lines on Allegra’s drawing faded.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You were engaged in a shouting match while suffering broken bones? A rib much less? That’s a bit preposterous,” I said. Admittedly I could function while missing legs but only because my brain turned off most pain. Never mind all the other problems that should have arisen such as bleeding out, messed up circulation from major arteries, and loss of consciousness. Magic typically responded to logic with a smile and a proud middle finger.

“So, who are you?” Callisto asked.

“Maybe I’m an exiled prince,” I muttered. Maybes didn’t count as lying. “Or maybe I simply wanted some pants!” I hadn’t let go of the issue because I was still buck naked. It didn’t matter how many times I repeated it, no one had offered to help me. The ground was cold against my rear, but my feet didn’t register the chill.

I found the temperature changes interesting enough to take note of. Maybe ogre feet were devoid of sensation. There were all sorts of ways to use that kind of knowledge in future fights.

“Pants. I’ve got pants.” Arson stood up in his cart and it rocked. He rubbed his chin and stared at the garment in his hands. “I’ve got size thirties. I’ve got some twenty-sixes for that scrawny fellow. And belts. You need these forty eights?” He bent back over and threw objects out of the cart. “No those won’t work. Extra extra large sweats?”

Arson’s declaration of carrying pants for the scrawny fellow set me back a step. Allegra glanced at me. Callisto closed her eyes for a long time. I brushed it off and pretended to pursue my single minded goal of clothing.

“Extra extra large will do,” I shouted.

“What?” Arson asked.

“Okay,” I simplified.

“I’m perfectly straight. Not that I don’t admire the work and effort put in. Not that that means anything. Living in the wild west. Abs on a skinny man are like tits on a fat girl, they don’t count!” He stomped and flung a pair of sweatpants in my direction.

I immediately stood and put them on. Callisto and Leon looked the other way.

Allegra’s eyes drifted up to meet mine. “It’s for artistic reasons…”

“So who are you?” Callisto asked.

Being partly dressed, at last, I felt more civilized. My hand clasped over a huge pectoral and I gave a short nod. “Greetings. I’m Mister Underwood. I’m a bit of a freelance exterminator. If you’d kindly point me in the direction of the arachnids of these woods, I will go about ensuring their untimely demise!”

My first meeting with Leon, Callisto, and Allegra, had been more of a “come with me if you want to live” moment. Leon had showed up, asked if I was Mayor Kent’s son, and pulled me into the world at large. This time I got to introduce myself from a position of more power and knowledge. That was another argument for wearing the Mister Underwood persona.

“See?” Callisto gestured at Leon. “We can hire him. You know how it goes. The less human they are, the more they have to obey their compulsions. All of them honor deals. Those stupid elves Mayor Kent has growing the fence made a deal for cookies. That weird mermaid at the city pool keeps fresh water flowing in if we keep those goblins out. They have to honor deals.”

I perked at that mention. My nature did have rules, but I’d never thought about deals being one of them. Lying, certainly. Compulsions, as well. But making a bargain and honoring it? I’d never considered simply stepping out after making a pact with someone.

“Yeah, obeying compulsions. Like Hawthorn needing to bend you over every bench in the city,” Leon retorted. Allegra touched her piece of paper, the knight doubled and started heaving.

He stood. Allegra twiddled her fingers on the picture again. Leon doubled over and heaved.

None of the others said a damned thing. I hadn’t ever noticed their apparent disdain for Leon. He’d never bothered me, aside from being so polite. Maybe that was simply to Hawthorn, because he was “Mayor Kent’s son.”

“We should be more professional,” Allegra said. “It’s rude to air our laundry in front of a stranger.”

“I doubt he cares. Look at him, he’s smiling. One of those creepy smiles like Hawthorn did. Used to—” He bent again as Allegra made him throw up a third time.

I wiped the amused smile off my face. Keeping my expression neutral took a lot of work.

Post Note: Honestly, they repeated themselves a dozen more times before anything meaningful happened. I shall cut short here because Leon obviously didn’t like me, Allegra knew my secret and felt awkward, and Callisto would use me until I served no purpose. As for Arson, he probably grumbled softly and but no one heard him—not even me. I did smell some foul farts though. So, using a reference that’s older than I am and useless in a fantasy world, we shall fast forward.

Leon crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the wagon. His lips puckered and cheeks were tight. I could have dipped him in lemon juice and ended up with a sweeter expression. If I could find enough lemons in this messed up world, then dipping him would be extremely easy.

I laughed and focused on what Callisto had been saying. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

I nodded.

“That seems, a small favor.”

“I’ve been advised that a better pair of pants might be available with enough silk. Therefore I only wish their weavings. Ideally, without the guts of their former spinners. In exchange, I provide muscle.”

“And where are you going to store it? Those spiders are huge. And you want to use silk for pants? That’s going to take a lot. Or something magical.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. Maybe if I got enough she could get a special T-shirt that didn’t have holes in it constantly.

Post Note: The idea of showing up from the dead and going “I got you a more durable shirt for our two-month bang-o-versery did have appeal. Mostly because of the sheer potential for confusion on her know-it-all face.

Still, I hadn’t figured out how to carry anything in this form. I suspected the spiders wouldn’t be small harmless creatures. They’d probably be big, small, and every size in between. In a modern era we’d use pesticides and flame throwers. I doubted any of them had skills for creating fires out of nowhere. Additionally, Allegra’s papers were extremely flammable.

“And?” I asked, prompting them to move forward.

“We’ll need your strength for more than the boulder,” Callisto said.

Her wants didn’t matter so much as completing the end goal quickly. They would finish up here, I’d take the webs on the bus, hopefully see if pants could be made, and probably still get to our home town before them. Then “Hawthorn” would live again. Or maybe I’d become Lance, stumbling out of a dark alley all wounded. Lots of possibilities. Either way, success here would help keep Stella safe.

Provided it hadn’t already become too late.

“And?” I asked. “You have needs. I have ability. Make yourself clear to me, rather than shouting at the sardine-scented man.” My head tilted toward Leon.

He shook his head but lifted an arm to smell. The scent of sour fish worsened. I scraped my tongue against my teeth to try and get rid of the taste. It didn’t help, but I did take note of the odd sharper teeth sticking out. Allegra’s laugh distracted me from the brief confusion.

“How long can we hire you for? Are you able to help clean up a city to the south? It’s a few days of your time.”

Callisto wanted me to help until the ogre king was dead. They did not seem to factor in my current form. She likely only saw brute strength. I worried that whatever magic he had that kept the dumber minions enthralled, might work on this body as well.

“There’s a reason I’m not in the town.” I winced. This would be dangerously close to lying. It would also require them to connect their own dots from the earlier glibness about being an exiled prince. “And despite being an ogre, I’ve my own goals. Our ways will part once you leave this forest, successfully, with whatever you seek.”

She frowned. Eventually we settled upon a reasonable “fair” exchange. Arson would provide me a trashcan to fill with webbing. They would help collect it until the bin was full and spider free. I’d had fun making sure no spiders would be counted toward filling the container. The task itself would suck and probably take most of my sanity but magical pants should be worth the effort. I dreamed of the possible special effects they might come with.

I would punch this blockade they’d run into with my charged fist. They were likely even more upset about losing Hawthorn since an explosive rune spell could have cleared most rubble.

We sealed the deal with a spit and shake. Callisto’s idea, not mine. After we shook I wiped my hand on the ground carefully and pretended nothing had happened. It didn’t matter to me what the terms were because I would have gone anyway. This was simply getting more out of the bargain than originally expected.

An hour later, we were well into the woods. The others let me lead the way. As Hawthorn, I did all the scouting anyway so it didn’t bother me.

I reached for webs and plucked the material. A kind of clicking chitter I’d never heard before filled the air. My head tilted as I searched for the source of noise.

Something small leapt on my bare chest, I glanced down to see a spider about the size of my palm. Tiny pointy feet were barely felt as it jabbed my skin with jerky motions. Its body reared for another attack and I squished it.

My fist came up gooey. Two breaths later the dead monster turned into a yellow orb. I frowned. These creatures were hardly worth the effort.

“You just walked into them.” Callisto sounded confused.

“Correct.” I turned and found them standing a few feet back, their weapons up and at the ready. “Spider silk has value. Spiders do not.”

My face stretched wide with a grin. I slowly came to realize that Mister Underwood was a jovial personality.