The Mantis Variant - Book One - 33. Chapter 33 - Epilogue 3 - Journey

Ilya, Lahari, and Auntie Peg walked out through the Teshon City gates. The morning sun was climbing the early-winter sky behind a veil of grey clouds. It was cold, and the three travelers were all bundled heavily, but none more so than Lahari.

Every inch of her unique, scaly blue-grey skin was covered. She wore a thick jacket and trousers with boots and gloves. A knit cap and scarf hid her head, and dark snow goggles prevented anyone from seeing her yellow eyes. However, Lahari was not used to wearing clothing, and she was uncomfortable.

The trio followed road signs and walked along with many other people on the Southtrack towards the village of Brokenpointe. They stayed their first night at an inn that overlooked the sea.

Once they were in their private room, Lahari declared, "I’ve got to get out of all this!"

She groaned, and the other two women could not help but stare at her, as she peeled the layers of clothes off her unique body. As she stripped naked, her black quills lifted from her skin and flexed, and she moved in place. Lahari stretched and extended her arms, bent her knees and squatted down, and she twisted her spine like a snake. It was as if the movement was cleansing her from the clothes.

All the while, her quills were in motion, and they were mesmerizing to Auntie Peg and Ilya. The black spines shifted in fluid unison and appeared to the two other women as rippling patterns that moved over Lahari’s unique body. Then she stood upright again, and the beautiful movements fell still.

Her eyes fell on them. "Sorry," she said, before either of them could apologize for staring, "I suddenly realize that I should have gotten food before taking my clothes off."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Auntie Peg replied in an encouraging tone. "I will tell the barkeep that you are exhausted from our trip, and I will bring food up for you to eat without the concern of being seen."

"By the by," Auntie Peg added as she stepped up to the door and turned the handle; she looked back towards Lahari, "we didn't mean to gawk at you, but you are so beautiful, child," and she and Ilya left her alone.

Lahari was startled by the kind words and stood staring at the closed door behind them. It was one thing for her fathers to compliment her, but even she thought of herself as monstrous.

Beautiful, she thought. Beautiful?

Noise from down on the beach outside drew her attention to the window. Lahari doused the lights and peered out at the ocean. The water looked black beneath the moonless sky, and she gazed into its rolling darkness. Commotion caught her eye and she looked down closer to the building.

A drum kit was set up on a wooden riser. There was a person seated behind it, adjusting each percussive instrument to the right position. Two other people joined the drummer, and a moment later, music began to swirl up from the beach.

Lahari raised the window a crack to hear it better, and the room began to cool. A radiator hissed to life in the corner, spreading its warmth against the cold.

There was a knock on the door and Auntie Peg's voice called out, "It's just me dear." She entered and shut it again behind her. "Hearty stew is supper."

"I'm watching the band," Lahari declared in a bright voice. Her yellow eyes were wide with wonder. "I want to eat by the window."

"I think that's a marvelous idea," Auntie Peg agreed. "Lights off was a good idea."

"I know you're hungry, too," Lahari said as she received the steaming bowl and placed it on a small table. "I'm good, and you should head back down to eat." She then turned to Auntie Peg. "Oh," she said as if she forgot something, "thank you!"

"Not a problem, my dear," Auntie Peg replied with a chuckle. She handed Lahari a large chunk of crusty bread before heading back down to join Ilya.

However, Auntie Peg was not pleased to see the trio of fishermen who were seated at the table around her. They were all leering at Ilya with lecherous desire.

Auntie Peg stepped right up, wedged herself between Ilya and the nearest man, and managed to shove him back from her.

"My, my, my," she commented in a very ladylike tone, but loud, "this table's gotten a bit crowded."

"We like where we're," one of them started to say, but Auntie Peg interrupted him.

"I was not speaking to you." She stared dead into his eyes. Her face was expressionless.

Another tried to interject. "Hey now, we were just," but Auntie Peg snapped at him.

"What you were just doing was intimidating a girl." Other guests were starting to pay attention to her. "Only weak little wormy boys try to win women through fear. We have no interest in your advances, nor whatever you were going to try and pressure her into doing."

"We wanted to…"

"We want none of what you're offering," Auntie Peg said over him. "Be on your way," and she added, "now."

The band stopped playing, and the three men looked around at the other tables whose customers were all silent and staring at them. Without the cover of music mixed with countless conversations, the men rose, grumbling under their breath. They did not look happy, but they headed down the beach, and the chatter around the patio returned.

"How did you do that?" Ilya asked. "You insulted them right to their faces." She added with a little awe in her voice. "I could never."

"Well," Auntie Peg replied with a guilty expression, "not only am I a man under all this glamour, and I've been in more than a few altercations over the years, but also this," and she nodded down towards her large traveling purse on her lap.

Through the opening, Ilya could see that in one hand Auntie Peg gripped the hilt of a dagger, and in the other, she held a glass sphere filled with purple powder.

"I was prepared," she informed Ilya. "This is sleep powder. It would have taken out the two who were seated on the other side of you, and the man next to me would not have been the first person I've stabbed, although I'm glad I didn't need to stab anyone on this lovely evening."

Auntie Peg and Ilya sat uninterrupted for the remainder of their time on the patio. Around them, folks ate and drank and talked and laughed, with the night enveloping the land in darkness.

Down on the beach, the local Brokenpointe musicians entertained the patrons. Roaring fires on either side of the riser upon which the band performed added a bizarre glow that illuminated the players. A third burned merrily within a fireplace built into the patio, and it helped to warm the tavern's guests on that chilly winter's night.

Auntie Peg rose from the table and left Ilya where she was seated. When she returned, she was carrying three tankards of ale. "I'm going to bring one up to our other friend, be right back."

She climbed the stairs, knocked on the door, and called out, "It's me again!" as she turned the key in the lock. The door opened, and it was dark in the room, but Lahari's yellow eyes glowed at Auntie Peg.

"Thought you'd enjoy a mug of beer as you listen to the music."

"I love it!" Lahari said.

Auntie Peg furrowed her brow. "But you haven't even tried it yet," she replied, extending the beverage to Lahari.

"No, the music!" Lahari declared, and she took a sip. "Ooh, that's good too," she added. Auntie Peg picked up the empty dish, and Lahari said, "Please, stay down there as long as you'd like. There's no rush. I'm really enjoying the music."

Auntie Peg chuckled and replied, "We probably won't stay out too late. It's been a big day."

Ilya was enjoying her ale when Auntie Peg joined her again. They sat together with their drinks, and when they were each done, the two women decided to call it a night. The band was still playing as they rose, but they settled their tab and headed back upstairs.

"Us again," Auntie Peg called as she opened the door to the dark room.

Lahari was staring down at the musicians.

"Do you mind if we turn the lights on for a bit?" Auntie Peg asked her. "Maybe just scoot back from view, or even sit beneath the window while the lights are on?" she recommended.

Lahari obliged and shifted herself to the floor.

"Well," Auntie Peg said to her traveling companions, "I guess it's my turn to get dramatic." She laughed and lifted her wig off of her head.

Both Lahari and Ilya were surprised to see the smushed dishwater blonde hair beneath. It was short and unkempt. Auntie Peg ran her long nails through it a few times and sighed. Then she peeled off her lash extensions and began to wash her face.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed. "It's getting so basic in this mirror." She peered at the reflective glass. Water dripped from her chin and makeup streaked her cheeks. "The boy beneath begins to emerge," Auntie Peg added with a smirk, "but he's not nearly as much fun."

"What's your real name?" Ilya asked.

Auntie Peg turned and extended her arm towards her with a wide smile. Her makeup was gone, and beneath it she was very plain-looking. Auntie Peg was slender and effeminate, but there really was a 40 year old man underneath. Their hands connected.

"I'm so pleased to meet you," she said jokingly to Ilya. She added, "The name I was given at birth is Bizzle Pondagage, but Auntie Peg or Peggy is who I really am."

"Wow," Ilya whispered in disbelief, and Auntie Peg smirked. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud." She turned to Lahari. "Have you ever seen him like this?"

"I think she is what Peggy prefers," Lahari responded, "and no, I haven't."

Neither Ilya nor Auntie Peg could decipher Lahari's expression, but she was also staring.

"Ta-da!" Auntie Peg said, putting her hands up by her cheeks and framing her face. "A boy," she stated with another bright smile, "and she's exhausted," she added. "Let's turn in."

She leaned towards Ilya. "When I'm all done up, I certainly expect to be addressed by everyone as she, but like this," and Auntie Peg struck a pose, "you can call me he or she."

A moment later, the lights were out again. Auntie Peg left the two beds available for Ilya and Lahari, and wrapped herself in a blanket on the couch.

"Good night and sweet dreams, ladies," she said, and soon she and Ilya were fast asleep.

Lahari lay awake, listening to the music. She left the window cracked, and even though a cold breeze was blowing in, she did not want to shut out the lovely sounds. Then other noises began to interrupt her enjoyment.

Multiple voices shouting hateful remarks began a discordant punctuation over the song. The slurred speech and bravado that came on with inebriation was so disruptive that the musicians needed to stop playing.

Lahari heard the words bitch and slut, but she could not make out where the anger was directed. She sat up in the darkness and looked at the window, but from the bed, she could only see out to sea. Slipping from the bed, she slunk over to look down at the beach.

"They're gone," someone said below.

"Where'd they go?" a drunken voice managed to enunciate.

Lahari could see a few men stomping around the patio.

Then the barkeep spoke up. "Look, fellas, why don't I give you each a beer on the house, and you take it and head on your way? Huh, what do you say to that? There no need for trouble."

"What if we're looking for trouble?" one of them sneered, and he knocked over a table with a few empty plates. They crashed to the floor and shattered.

Another of the drunkards grabbed the bartender by his collar. "Are they staying here? You know who I'm talking about, the woman with the smart mouth from earlier and her young friend. We want a word with them."

Lahari looked over at Auntie Peg.

"I can't tell you if they’re staying here!" the barkeep replied.

The man released his shirt and said, "That confirms it, boys. Them bitches are upstairs. Let's find 'em and drag 'em down to the beach."

They started roaring drunken obscenities over any words of protest from other guests, and the men entered the building through the patio doors. They made quite a ruckus, knocking over and smashing a few more plates and glasses from a side table.

Lahari closed the window, crept to the door, and opened it a crack. The hall was empty, but she could hear the men stomping up the stairs. She slipped out and gently pushed the door so that it was not quite closed and did not latch. Then she swept towards the top of the stairs and the oncoming group of men.

"What in the fucking," the one at the front began to say, as he came face to face with Lahari's terrifying appearance. He froze and the other men bumped into him.

Lahari reached her arms forward, and he leaned back.

"What the hell are you doing?" one of them snapped.

"I almossht lossht my balancsh," the other mumbled.

The man in front grunted an indistinguishable syllable of disgust, as Lahari's hands came to either side of his face. Then he went rigid and wheezed the air out of his lungs. Before his companions' eyes, he began to vaporize. He could not even scream, as the molecules of his body began to break down to their elemental parts. Atomic bonds failed, and in a matter of seconds, his life fled the shell of his body. His form became like a cold cinder that was burned down to ash, and what remained of him crumbled to a pile of dust on the stairs.

The other two men screamed in terror at the almost instantaneous death and disintegration, but Lahari then reached out and grabbed both of them. One man slipped from her grip and fell backwards. Her powers affected humans even more horribly than they did to either Messiahs or Demifae. As he tumbled down the stairs, first an arm and then a leg broke off, and finally his head separated from his body, and he landed at the bottom of the flight in a pile of dried-out chunks.

Lahari pulled the final man against her body, stabbing into his flesh with countless of her needle-sharp black quills, and she wrapped her arms around him. Then she unleashed her full power and the man vanished.

Lahari relaxed again, and a faint wisp of steam curled up towards the ceiling and dissipated.

The hall above the stairs was still empty, and Lahari snuck back into the room★