The Odd Job Read online

  Chapter 10

  I awoke feeling like I had been on a two-month vacation in the tropics. I was a little dehydrated, but not a single knot to be found anywhere on my body. Well, maybe one knot I realized as I tied the robe Belinde had found me last night a little tighter. I knew I should get dressed, but I wasn't doing a damn thing before I had a nice breakfast and a cup of coffee. Stepping into a pair of slippers from the closet, I used my new found skill and equipment to transition to the kitchen doorway.

  I heard Belinde talking as I entered. "I think I'm dying, he says in the same tone of voice that you would say, 'mmmmm, coffee.’"

  "Mmmm, I smell coffee," I interrupted as I tried not to laugh at Belinde's scandalized expression. "I thought ladies didn't kiss and tell," I stated offhandedly as I began following the scent trail towards a coffee carafe on the counter.

  "Then you still have a bit to learn about ladies, it seems," Wellington replied for Belinde in a clipped British retort. ‘Women,’ I thought, taking a cup from the tray beside the carafe. I poured myself a steaming cup of coffee and savored the smell before taking a tentative sip. "Ahhh," I sighed, pure caffeinated heaven.

  Belinde wore a devilish little grin as I approached the small table that she and Wellington were seated at. Not much for public displays of affection, I couldn't help but plant a small kiss on Bel's forehead before taking a seat beside her.

  "I'm sure you must be famished after your busy night," Wellington said with a conspiratorial glance at Belinde who smiled and blushed down to her bust line. "Chef will be here soon to cook breakfast. Make yourself comfortable and enjoy your coffee," Wellington advised.

  Belinde was already showered and dressed. I hadn't heard her wake or leave, but then again I had been sleeping quite soundly. Sex with my amazing little succubus was better than warm milk. A dreamy smile stole its way across my face as I remembered the events of the previous evening.

  "Declan" Belinde repeated, "what do you want for breakfast?" she asked, probably for the second time.

  I had been staring off into space lost in a rather pleasant daydream. I looked up to see a cherubic little man with a pencil mustache and an actual chef hat smiling at me. Though I was seated, I was still practically at eye level with the little man.

  "Some breakfast mon ami?" the little man asked with a smile.

  "Yes please, Chef,” I answered. “Bacon, two eggs sunny side up, hash browns and toast."

  "Of course, sir," Chef agreed amiably. Quickly collecting orders from Wellington and Belinde, he bustled off further into his kitchen to prepare our breakfast.

  "I've heard rumors that you had an unscheduled outing last night," Wellington offered as a conversation starter.

  "I didn't know that these things were scheduled,” I replied and paused to take a sip of the delicious French roast coffee. "It was kind of a crazy day and at the end of it when a goddess asks me for a favor, well it just seemed like the thing to do," I finished.

  Wellington gave a slight snicker before he spoke. "Trust me Declan, we are all well aware of the elder’s charms. Saying no to her doesn't usually cross one's mind,” he finished in a sagely manner.

  Belinde cleared her throat in a dainty fashion and the two of us noticed her blushing once again. "No, it sure doesn't,” I said with a grin as Belinde kicked me under the table.

  "I would love to hear about your first assignment, if it's not too much to ask at breakfast?" Wellington asked.

  "It was probably the equivalent of a basket weaving course in high school,” I said as I remembered almost falling of a balcony railing with some embarrassment. "It was just a simple mission. Do you really want to hear about it?" I said, hoping that he wouldn't be interested but both he and Belinde nodded enthusiastically.

  I relayed the events of the previous evening to Wellington hoping that Belinde wouldn't snap at me for only giving her the cliff notes version last night. Wellington seemed interested in the smallest of details so I offered up all the information he wanted. I had just gotten up to pour a second cup of coffee when Chef arrived with breakfast. I hadn't noticed the quaint little serving trolley loaded down with our steaming breakfast plates until I almost tripped over it.

  Chef was already placing plates out in order as I returned to my chair. Belinde was hungrily eyeing her plate of Eggs Benedict and was in danger of openly drooling. Wellington was primly tucking a napkin in at his collar as Chef placed ham and eggs in front of him. I took my seat as the aromatic scents of breakfast stirred my hunger.

  "Your beautiful retainer has apologized in advance for your habit of smothering your food with ketchup," Chef said with a smile coloring his ever-present French accent. Bel would know as she'd seen me drowning my fries with ketchup often enough. I was touched that she had remembered though. I shrugged with a little embarrassment when he handed me a small white serving bowl. The bowls lid was notched to allow for the spoon handle sticking out of it. I set the bowl down on my right as he placed an oval platter in front of me. "Bon appétit mes amis," Chef said with a slight bow and wheeled his little trolley away.

  The platter in front of me was a work of art. The hash browns were a colorful golden mound of potato with flecks of green, red and the stark black of cracked pepper. The potatoes smelled heavenly, my eggs were a perfect over easy and the bacon appeared to be the perfect density and crispness. I had to sample the bacon first, of course. I picked up a half slice of toast and poked it into the center of one of my eggs. A rich dark golden yolk oozed out onto the toast. I bit greedily into the wedge of toast and was rewarded with the taste of a farm fresh egg that had been cooked by a master. The amazing toast itself was thick and hearty with an almost sweet nutty taste. The suspense was killing me by this point so I picked up a fork and tried the hash browns. I could honestly say that these were the best hash browns I had ever tasted. Hell, this was easily the best breakfast I had ever been treated to.

  "My god Wellington, how do you live like this?" I asked in amazement.

  "We all have our little crosses to bear,” he said with a wink. "You will notice that Chef takes liberties if he doesn't agree with your choice of preparation," Wellington said as he pointed at my eggs with the tip of his fork. I stared down at my eggs for a moment before I remembered that I had ordered my eggs sunny side up.

  "That's fine,” I said waving the matter away, "I actually prefer them this way but most cooks can't get them right. It's safer just to order sunny side up," I finished with a smile.

  "Chef certainly isn't 'most cooks.’" Wellington said knowingly. With that we all munched away contentedly. I sighed with regret when I had finished my meal. I felt very satisfied by my meal but it was so tasty that, once done, I was already missing it like a friend. Wellington chuckled and patted me on the shoulder in consolation. I would be seeing a lot of Coach if I didn't start exercising some serious control at the table.

  With another heartfelt sigh, I stood. There were things to do and I had best get my day started. I excused myself from Belinde and Wellington. After my amazing breakfast I was looking forward to a long hot shower. Whatever the day held in store for me, I would be meeting it well-fed.

  Once I reached what I figured was a polite distance from the table, I transitioned directly to my bedroom. To my surprise, I didn't see Egg at his customary place at the foot of the bed. Believing there was a limit to the trouble Egg could find on his own, I made my way to the bathroom for my morning ablutions.

  The shower was every bit as magical as the bath had been the night before and, though men try not to let on, we do care about such things, I was pleased to note the healthy glow to my skin as I finished brushing my hair.

  I chose a simple black sweater shirt from the selection at hand and a pair of simple semi-casual dress pants. I didn't see the point in khakis and a t-shirt if I had nice clothes and free dry-cleaning available. I would enjoy. I made sure to check for the winged symbol on the pair of dress shoes I selected, secretly thankful to have found a pair that didn't look
too insanely expensive. I could barely make out the shape of the choker necklace under the thin sweater but decided it was better under the garment than worn openly. Buckling a dressy black leather belt into place, I turned expecting to find Egg and was surprised to notice he was still missing.

  As I pondered the question of where Egg might be, I was suddenly treated to an unsettling vision overlaid upon my own. The vision itself wasn't unsettling but the fact that I was having trouble navigating was. I saw Smith working away at something on his workbench and suddenly realized that I must be seeing him through Egg's eyes. I had to smile as this little discovery could come in quite useful.

  Fighting the urge to click my heels together, I transitioned to the doorway directly outside the armory. You wouldn't think it, but I was already becoming used to transitioning, or stepping as some of the elders referred to, as a mode of travel. Not thinking of the mode of travel as 'teleporting' would take a little longer.

  Pushing the massive doors open, I was greeted by a hearty and somewhat booming 'Good morning!' by Smith. Egg trilled away happily at my arrival. I greeted Smith with a smile and a handshake. "I see you're up early, Egg,” I said in greeting to my little dragon. Egg struck a regal pose and tapped the trinity knot on his chest with one of his little arms. I noticed the triquetra on the center of his chest, proudly thrust forward with intentional meaning. "You have been on official business?" I asked, humoring the charming little beast. Egg nodded once then hopped up onto the workbench to retrieve a belt before hopping back down.

  "Been here since the crack of dawn, the little slave driver. Has it in his head that your work order should be ready for your first day," Smith commented with a proud chuckle as he handed me another ring.

  "Another Super-Bowl ring? And I didn't get you anything,” I said with a wasted grin as I realized that Smith missed the reference completely. "Thank you, Smith,” I said, gesturing with the ring. "Since you didn't get down on one knee, I'll assume this goes with the belt?" I said before I realized my sense of humor might get me killed. Luckily Smith got the reference this time and barked with laughter. I would have viewed the moment as a success if he hadn't clapped me on the back in mirth and practically knocked me out.

  Once I was able to breathe again properly, I exchanged my old belt for the new one. I marveled at the self-sizing ring shrinking to fit the ring finger of my left hand. Eager to try out my new prize, I swept my left hand up and past my belt. As expected, I felt the cool metal of the stubby rifle I had nicknamed the ‘Bulldog’. I won't lie. I felt like a real badass. Smith, of course, was beaming with pride and I knew the expression on my face was all the thanks he needed. "Smith, you are a true artist,” I said with gratitude.

  "That, laddie, is nothing compared to the wonder I have to show you!" Smith stage whispered with unbridled excitement. I turned back to the workbench at his enthusiastic gesturing. New toys were a sure way to catch my interest. Smith picked up a sheet of fabric roughly the size of a queen-size bed sheet. At first I thought it was a charcoal grey, but soon noticed it was a mixture of silver and black.

  "That's nice,” I said, slightly brought down. "I'd love a jacket made of that stuff," I mentioned as an afterthought.

  "You'll have it!" Smith said with pride. I looked at Smith with obvious puzzlement. The fabric was catchy, sure, but I didn't understand why he was so excited about it. Sensing my confusion, Smith tilted his head back and laughed. "This was your idea boy! Aren't you prancing to test it?" he pleaded with enthusiasm.

  Realization dawned on me as I looked at the fabric in his hands. "This is your version of ballistic fabric?" I asked in disbelief.

  "That and more, my good lad! Much more," Smith finished with a conspirators grin.

  "Hell yeah, I wanna test it!" I agreed and stepped back as Smith threw the fabric over his shoulder like a toga and walked away.

  "This should be far enough," he said, pulling a generous amount of the fabric across his chest and pointing at his heart.

  "What, you want me to shoot you?" I blurted with sincere concern.

  "Hell yeah!" Smith agreed, wholeheartedly adopting the modern euphemism. A look of surprise appeared quite comically on Smith's face. "You are a competent aim?" Smith asked, sounding a bit like Wellington in his serious manner but with a touch of honest boyish concern.

  I produced, aimed and fired the bulldog in one smooth motion. My aim was, to pardon the pun, dead on. The round hit the exact spot Smith had indicated over his heart. The sharp rapport of the rifle was echoed by a strange clang that rang loudly from the fabric draped over Smith's shoulder and chest. I had a moment of shock as Smith's eyes bulged in surprise but relaxed with a huge smile split his features from ear to ear.

  "Incredible!" Smith roared. "I felt nothing!" he exclaimed, practically dancing with excitement. "Quickly, a heavy round if you would," he instructed. Shaking my head at the very thought of our foolishness, I fired a heavy round at the same spot. Once again, the sound of the rifle was immediately answered by the ringing clang, only the pitch was lower and the volume was significantly louder.

  "Smith," I shouted with honest intensity, "that's bloody amazing! How did you do it?" Smith smiled and tapped a big meaty finger to his right temple.

  "You made me think when you showed me that little trick with the sand and then started talking with Angus about his pillow,” Smith said with a big grin. “The real magic happened when you planted the seed of music in my head!" Smith finished proudly.

  "Music?" I asked. "I don't remember talking about music. Unless you mean the vibration traveling down the strings of a guitar to spread across the body. I remember saying something about that." I said, slightly confused at how that could possibly have helped.

  "Neither one of your ideas by itself was enough to solve the problem, but together, well together they were mighty indeed!" Smith complemented with obvious pleasure. His face was positively beaming.

  I was about to ask the first of a hundred questions when what sounded like a giants hunting horn sounded inside my head. Smith went white as a ghost and Egg trilled like a car alarm. ‘Great Hall’ came to mind, and Smith and I bellowed this thought simultaneously. I had no idea where the thought came from but I didn't waste a second before stepping directly to the Great Hall.

  My transition brought me to the one spot fixed most clearly in my mind. The exposed root of the world tree came into crisp focus as I opened my eyes. Everything seemed in order until a prickling of the hairs at the back of my neck caused me to whirl in place. Approaching me menacingly from behind was a pasty figure in a plain black business suit. A rictus grin was plastered across his corpse-like face and his hands were outstretched as if to choke the life from me.

  Before a cogent thought could form in my mind, I had drawn my sword and was watching Mr. Pasty's head roll from his shoulders. I kicked the still standing body in the chest and noticed what looked like a submachine gun slung from a strap over its shoulder. "Who bothers with a choke hold when they're carrying a P-90?" I asked out loud as something crashed to the floor on my right.

  Wheeling to my right, I saw Heimdallr lying flat on his back with a pattern of holes up the left side of his torso, each hole oozing blood. Just past Heimdallr was the body of what looked like one of the little fuzzy trolls with the big noses that you see at toyshops. Only this one was the size of a station wagon. Standing over the giant guard with a spiked club the size of a motorcycle, was another one of the brutish creatures.

  I dropped my sword, pulled the bulldog from its resting place between worlds and was about to put a round through the monster's head when a sharp trill and the mental image of another submachine caused me to tuck and roll. I could hear bullets cutting through the air over my head as I came up firing. Round after round tore through the body of the second troll with satisfyingly wet slaps.

  Another crash off to my right drew my attention back to Heimdallr who was still lying prone on the floor. Smith had joined the fray with the biggest axe I had ever see
n. He was currently going toe to toe with a third troll when another appeared behind him. At first I thought it was going to attack Smith from behind, but it started for the helpless Heimdallr. Its club was raised to crash down upon the unconscious guard when I brought my gun to bear.

  I selected the large rounds and put one dead center into its chest. The impact lifted the massive creature off its feet as a good portion of its chest flew out its back in a mixture of vapor and chunks. I was congratulating myself on the kill when once again Egg's warning trill echoed through the hall and my mind. I whirled around to face what I knew was behind me but I was too slow. I got a good look at the giant mace descending toward my head and knew I'd never get my gun up in time for a shot.

  Slow motion took over and I felt a brief moment of regret at not being able to fulfill my duty when I heard lightning crackle and the descending mace sprang backward before dropping from lifeless fingers. Tracking a fleeting movement I glanced back to my right in time to see Thor, God of Thunder, grasp the handle of his returning hammer. Quickly casting my gaze back to the left I saw a cavernous hole where the trolls face had been. Then I had to scramble to avoid the mountain of flesh as it toppled toward me.

  We stood in the hall silently for a moment. Smith, Thor and I looked at each other until our silence was broken by the body of a pasty gunman I hadn't noticed until it was spat out at my feet. Egg sat back on his haunches and towered above me looking smug. "Good work, Egg." I congratulated the dragon who had probably saved my life. "Don't forget to put the chairs back," I added with a grin as I noticed that only two chairs remained along one side of the table.

  We stood watching the fascinating sight of my dragon growing smaller by the moment as he paused to redeposit chair after chair along the length of the table, until our attention was drawn by a nearby groan. With a guilty realization, the three of us rushed to Heimdallr as he groaned a second time. Thor knelt beside the giant guard cradling his head and stilling the hand that kept trying to lift the sword it still grasped.

  "Be still my friend. The danger has passed," Thor said with surprising tenderness.

  "The pass," Heimdallr gasped, "they came through the pass,” he finished before a coughing fit prevented him from saying anything further. Thor's eyes shot up to meet Smith’s who wasn't looking the slightest bit pleased with the situation.

  "Goibhniu, take Heimdallr to the healers. I have to warn Mother and the others. Adjustor, with me," the elder Thor barked at me with authority.

  Odin strode into the hall followed closely by Belinde and Angus. Odin and Thor shared a silent moment locked in an intense gaze before the Elder of Elders nodded.

  "Bel, stay here with Egg," I pleaded. "Get some heavy stuff in here, anything metal, in case Egg has to get big again." Belinde nodded with wide eyes, obviously frightened. "Don't let anything through this hall,” I said as Smith started dragging Heimdallr out of the hall to transition to the infirmary. Others were starting to arrive as I felt Thor's hand rest upon my shoulder. The mighty Thor raised his hammer and it began to glow a brilliant blue just before he marched me through the wall carving and onto the plateau atop the world tree.