Page 80 of Wickedly Ever After
“What are these things?” Hari grumbled as Tinbit pulled the thorn out.
“Artemisia horribilius,” Hector said. “The locals call it the Boot-ripper. Lovely yellow flowers in the summer.”
“Another one of Hector’s mistakes,” Tinbit grunted, bandaging Hari’s hand. “It’s not native.”
“It’s naturalized,” Hector said. “And I didn’t introduce it.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t eradicate it either.” Tinbit resumed his place in front of the pony. It eyed the prickly plant with a hungry eye.
“How much farther?” Ida yanked a thorn out of her boot before it worked its way through the leather.
Hector pointed upward toward a faint star of light gleaming out in the mounting mist. “Tinbit, take Hari, Ida, and Cear inside when we get there. I’ll stable the pony—”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tinbit said. “That’s my job, thank Gods. You get to make a deal with your ghoul for a good night’s sleep. I’d probably tell him to go boil his head, and that would be disgusting.” Before Hector could protest, Tinbit swung up on the saddle behind Hari, put his arms around him, and spurred the pony to a gallop. They were soon out of sight, although the noise of clipped little hoofbeats echoed on what sounded like a well-groomed gravel path.
Hector turned to Ida. “Well, shall we?” He offered her his hand.
After a moment, Ida took it. The path was in complete darkness now, and he probably knew these trails from old.
“I wish I’d worn chain mail instead of my robe,” she grumbled.
“The thorns are only thick on the paths. The ponies keep it well grazed out in the mountain valleys, and beyond that, the dragons burn it. In the colder regions where the giants live, it won’t grow at all. In fact, they make a soup called Artemisia Delight featuring imported plants. It’s quite delicious, or so I’m told.”
“You haven’t eaten it?”
“No. It’s poisonous to humans.”
“Which was why you didn’t eradicate it, of course.”
“A knight or two has boiled it down to his demise, I’m sure, but anyone here would tell them not to. They just never ask. Mind your step. Sebastian likes his little tricks.” He guided her around a stone that opened its maw hungrily and glared up at her with a hurt frown when she stepped over it.
Sebastian—well, Sebastian from the neck down—waited at the front door of the inn. He waved at them, beckoning them on.
“Where’s his head?” Ida asked.
“At the front desk, let us hope,” Hector said. “He often leaves his body to wait tables and greet the guests.”
The headless corpse bowed animatedly to them as they entered. Ida thought it reflected the head rather well, being jumpy and vigorous as it bounded from table to table, pulling out chairs, and menus, which Hector declined by pushing the hand away.
An appetizer appeared hopefully on the table—a large bowl of pickled eyeballs rolling around to wink at her.
“What did Tinbit mean, make a deal for a good night’s sleep? It can’t be guessing his name.” She glanced at the bright sign full of pixie-light on the wall. Sebastian’s Place flashed in brilliant neon over the bar. “I presume he doesn’t want a firstborn child?”
“Nothing so severe, my dear lady!” Sebastian’s head bobbed happily up from behind the counter, and she jumped. “What did you do with your sweet little gnome? Didn’t hand him over to Hector’s hardluck case, I hope?”
“I need the key to the room for Ida and her gnome,” Hector said. “No room service or wake-up call, please.”
“The Honeymoon Suite is prepared,” the head said. The body handed over the keys to Hector with a flourish and a complimentary spider, which Hector released on the counter.
“And for your gnomes, my delightfully austere Wickedness, the Presidential Suite. All the floating heads of the last century at your beck and call, skeleton keys to go with the skeletons in the closet. Only the best for the boss’s boy.”
“No suite. I want a regular room, again, for me and Tinbit.”
Sebastian’s rolling eyes glinted. “Are you sure? I thought you and her Goodness might prefer to be alone to do the dirty.”
Hector’s voice dropped by an octave, and the temperature in the room went down by ten degrees. “That’s uncalled for, Sebastian.” He took a black box from beneath his robe and set it on the desk.
Sebastian’s eyes took on a surprised and then malicious red glow as his gaze raked Ida’s face . “Oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh…Hector. My, my, how the evil have fallen. Don’t worry, my dear. You won’t miss it when it’s gone. And when it is, you’ll feel so much better, I guarantee it! Got rid of mine with a side of fried poisonapples and see how happy I am!” With an explosive pop, the head vanished.
