The Worst Day of Ianthe's Life

The frizzy-haired woman tossed her head back and gave an ear-splitting whistle. A moment later, a round-faced, bright-eyed young man with a crooked smile and nervous demeanor appeared before them.

Mabon jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Sprocket Danley, please make sure these three are taken care of. That one there," she indicated Kimmerick with a lift of her chin, "needs to go see Armature Hiroshi. All three will need a place to stay until we can figure out what to do with them. Make it happen, Sprocket. I've got other things to attend to."

The Sprocket saluted, clicking his heels together as Mabon gave the trio a final parting nod before stalking off in a very businesslike hurry. When Mabon had disappeared from sight, the young man relaxed only a little, turning a tight-lipped smile that didn’t meet his too-quickly-blinking eyes to his new charges.

“Okay, then,” he said, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. “Yes, okay then.”

Judging from his body language, Fairuza surmised that Sprocket Danley was not accustomed to having any meaningful responsibility around the encampment. He was the sort of fellow who was told to fetch this, deliver that, hammer this, carry that. He was not the sort of fellow asked to handle anything. Handling required higher-order decision making abilities. The blank stare in Danley’s eyes as he blink-blink-blinked at the trio told Fairuza he might have been lacking in that department.

Danley clenched his fists, gulped down his nerves and grinned hard at the small group before him. “Okay! Uh, yes, we need to get you three squared away! Uh, let’s see. Not sure where…or who….maybe we could ask…no, wouldn’t want to bother—“

“Why don’t you help us find a place to lay down our things and get situated,” Ianthe offered. “Maybe you have a tent or two that could be converted to a temporary shelter? Maybe something that’s being used to store munitions or first aid kits or something like that?”

Danely’s eyes brightened and his lips parted in the beginnings of a much-less-nervous smile. “Oh! Now there’s an idea. We have a couple tents nobody’s using, on account of they’ve got big holes in em. Someone—I won’t say who—thought setting off fireworks inside a tent was a good idea. But you probably won’t meet Sprocket Felder, so you should be safe. Far as the tents go, as long as it doesn’t rain, they should be good enough.”

Ianthe nodded her approval and gestured for Danley to lead the way.

Before long, the found themselves in a disused area of the outpost, standing waist high in a forgotten heap of mouldering equipment. Fairuza could barely make out the motley colors of a camping tent mixed in with unopened wooden crates and a collection of burlap sacks. She began clearing her way toward them.

“Here we are,” Danley said, looking triumphant as his gaze followed Fairuza wading into the piles. “Looks like we’ve got a couple tents in that rubble. I can help you set them up if you like, or I can leave you to it?”

Ianthe propped her hands on her hips and looked helplessly to Kimmerick, who gestured to his bad arm with his good one. “Afraid I can’t help pitch a tent in this condition,” he lamented. “Can you girls manage on your own, or do you need the Sprocket’s help?”

Ianthe scoffed. “Well, of course we need the Sprocket’s help! How do you think we’ll—“

“Actually,” Fairuza cut in, tossing her friend a stern glance, “I think we can manage. I’m sure Kimmerick would be grateful if you took him to see the mechanic as soon as possible. It can’t feel very good to be down an arm. I’m sure Ianthe and I can figure it out from here.”

Ianthe opened her mouth to object, but quickly closed it when she saw the look on Fairuza’s face. With a sigh, she heaved her shoulders and nodded dejectedly. “Oh all right. I suppose Fairuza and I can make do without you two.” She turned her attention to Kimmerick, who was blushing quite red and looking more than a little ashamed of his current uselessness. “Go on and get your arm fixed. Maybe you’ll be whole again by dinner. I'm sure we two girls can figure out how to set camp all by ourselves.”

The Sprocket paused, his expression dubious. “Have you never pitched a tent before?”

Ianthe’s scowl deepened. “You mean driven stakes into hard ground and hoisted very heavy canvases into position all by our lonesome? Of course not! How would we travel with such a burden? Fairuza and I usually sleep under the stars on just our bedrolls. But then again, we are usually alone, not surrounded by strangers, half of whom are men.” The girl shuddered. “Sleeping without privacy with men nearby is out of the question,” the girl said. “So as much as we have never done it before, it appears we have no choice. We’ll figure it out.”

“If you don’t think you can manage it, I’m sure I can find someone else to help,” the Sprocket said, looking not at all sure. “I just don’t know who we can spare. This particular outpost, as you may have noticed, has been dispatched to take care of the gargoyle problem. And the berg problem. Which is really the same problem anyway. You see, the citadel woke up and turned into a boulderberg and floated into the sky, which, as far as I know, has never happened before. The gargoyles weren’t too keen on that, and in protecting their territory, they’ve been—“

"Yes, we already know all about that," Ianthe interrupted with a weary roll of her eyes. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not hear about all of the goings-on just at the moment. I'd really like to make camp so we can eventually find ourselves a comfortable place to lie down and have a nap. You did hear that we were captured by one of those gargoyles, and then dropped nearly to our deaths, didn't you?”

The Sprocket’s mouth dropped opened. “Uh, yes, ma’am, I heard about—“

“Well then, perhaps you can appreciate that I’m in no position to have a drawn-out conversation about weird monsters and unthinkable shenanigans. I just want to get my bearings and lie down."

The sprocket dipped his chin in apology. “Yes, of course. We’ll leave you to it, then.” He gave the girls the barest bow and turned on his heels, with Kimmerick scuttling behind.

Fairuza sighed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to be an ass, you know.”

Ianthe rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “What good is it to be surrounded by people with muscles and know-how if we aren’t going to use them?”

Fairuza bent low, grabbed the corner of a blue striped piece of canvas and tugged. “Quiet your whining and get over here and help me.”

Ianthe dug her knuckles into her eyes and made a terrible sound in her throat like a cat dying. “Oh, this is turning out to be the worst day of my life!”