Ch: 54 Chocolate City

 

As they stepped from their familiar and comfortable common room, the Wards were transported into a garden from a child’s nightmare.

The air was cold and damp, a wet fog drifting in ragged scraps around the garden. Long, sickly vines bore pumpkins and gourds whose rinds formed awful or comic faces in strange, leering grimaces. Faint lights flickered from withered and blackened shrubs and tangled thickets of unhealthy looking brambles.

The public bath was gone, replaced by a small, steaming swamp with dolmen and strange monoliths here and there among the toadstools. 

The charming home was also gone, their pleasant front door was surrounded by a cyclopean temple of stone, crawling with loathsome vines and lichen. A long flight of shallow steps led to a basalt altar, stained with fresh blood.

“Now Helene can complain about my temple.” Gary said with satisfaction. 

 

The carriage house and shop front remained, as did the front door. It stood anachronistically in the shadow of the stone staircase leading to the murdertable on the roof.

Amy and Wilford clapped with glee at the changes, Tawny seemed less happy.

 

Otho stood by the gate, sadly shaking his head. “You will not be winning your case to stay on campus now, young fool. That is delightfully horrid though.” He sighed in resignation and clapped the back of one olive brown hand to his forehead.

“What other trouble can I expect from you? I hear you have begun producing those smell jewels again. Can we expect a stinky prank?” He affected a pose of long suffering angst and worry, while his eyebrows danced merrily.

 

Gary just smiled and swept the old man up in a huge hug. When he let go they carried him along as they walked and chatted. 

“I’ll be keeping my jokes and pranks tightly controlled. This is a feast for the children where I come from.” Gary held hands with Shai who carried Wilford. Amy shadowed Becky, telling her all about halloween, and candy in detail, mostly about candy.

 

“Wheatford is an orderly town, I am receiving numerous complaints from parents and clergy, certain entities are apparently abusing some loophole in the law.” The old rascal smiled smugly. “Of course I know nothing of such matters and would prefer that remain the case.”

 

“Happy to oblige.” Gary looked at the old man critically. “You decided not to dress up today?”  

 

“I felt that with the current negotiations underway, I should maintain an air of clerical impartiality.” He smiled fondly at the mad boy. “Perhaps in the hours of darkness I may make some alterations to my wardrobe… in the interest of community engagement.” He nodded gravely.

“Lest there be some suggestion of collusion between Joy and whatever entities you claim to represent.” Even Tallum’s gorilla mask would have failed to hide the wink Otho tossed out like a live grenade.

 

As they walked, the streets became more active, people bustling out of shops, smiling and following their noses. Titters of laughter erupted from the growing crowd as they walked along.

“Gary, is some prank afoot? I detect only the faintest traces of magic on the air, yet something is stirring up the people…” He turned to look behind him, a fair sized mob had gathered, mostly women and girls. Plenty of men followed along just at a greater distance.

 

“Me? Pranks on a holy feast day? The very idea.” Gary scolded the old man, as giggles sprang up in front of the slow walking, happy riot.

Otho turned about to check the crowd, there were more people coming out and following along. A few were openly laughing, while others smiled knowingly. 

“Why is everyone laughing and what is that delightful aroma? Chocolate? We did so enjoy the samples you sent the temple Gary, why do I smell it now?”

 

“Well, the smell from the chocolaterie is kinda distracting to the ladies on campus, so I enchanted an Aroma Band™ for it, and Ivy’s kitchen too. We smell awesome right now.” 

He cackled with laughter as Otho turned around to see what was entertaining the people. “I’m passing the sweetest smelling gas ever, crop dusting the town.” He skipped a few steps with Shai, prancing with pure excitement.

“We have a grand tradition among my people, we blame our farts on others, without fail.” He smiled fondly at the old man. “Sorry Otho. Maybe I’ll make it up to you some day, but I doubt it.” 

 

“You pinned something embarrassing to the back of my robes, didn’t you, boy.” He said with a hint of pride in his voice. “I am well over three hundred years into my tenure as the master of this refuge for orphans and the unguided. It has been a century since I was successfully pinned with a donkey’s tail, congratulations.”

 

“Pin the tail on the donkey… that tracks. Thanks for being a good sport. You can make an outraged complaint later if you want.” Gary offered. “At this point it would just be a tear in a salted sea.”

 

“This thing on my back… it’s nothing too buffoonish or crude I trust?” Otho asked, his eyes alight with professional interest. 

 

“I have a spare, here.” Gary handed him a scroll of waxed paper, with a green cloth matching his robe pasted to it with a sticky mucilage. He unrolled it, revealing a detailed painting of himself, in profile seated on a stone with a hazy garden in the background.

Every nuance of expression and posture had been faithfully captured, from the buzzcut, to his wild, flyaway white eyebrows. He sat in a posture of deep thought, the ponderous weight of the burdens on those slender, aged shoulders lent the work an air of deep and meaningful gravity. 

Otho was nude of course, shaded and textured in exquisite detail by a truly gifted artist. From his bare buttocks, a gust of brown and green vapor erupted, flying in bold brush strokes that spoke of stenches from unknown depths.

“Dannyl?” He asked his protege in a soft voice as he discreetly tucked the artwork up his sleeve. The boy pointedly ignored this theft, bless him.

 

“That kid is a genius, not just with a pen or brush. Look out Otho, it’s gonna get nuts.” Gary whispered back as they entered the market ward.

The aged priest smiled fondly at his young friends and adjusted his robe to best display the bold and artistic patch on his back. “Where are we headed this fine morning?”

 

“Harlan’s forge, we’re borrowing a few things for the festival.” It was a bit after second bell and people were out and moving in the craft ward already. The sudden influx of townies, following after their sweet smelling procession really started things up.

The gaming booths run by craft apprentices and food stalls were just opening, when the crowd hit like a wave of monied locusts.

 

As the festival began in earnest they arrived at Harlan’s. Out front, a flatbed wagon drawn by Flora stood empty and waiting. One of Harlan’s enormous teenage apprentices was stroking her ears, so the young donkey would happily wait all day.

“Flora! Darling so nice to see you again!” Gary fussed and doted on the animal, until Thom couldn’t hold out any more. 

 

“So ye prefer my familiar’s company to mine do ye?” The big ginger grumbled. His voice wasn’t in Tallum’s register, but he was a meaty lad with a barrel chest.

 

“Flora never discussed crucifying anyone, because she has a moral compass and an appreciation for the dignity of life.” Gary remarked while rubbing her all over her neck and cheeks. “If she’s your familiar, that’s a huge point in your favor.” Gary gripped the young giant’s hand and grinned. “Know what’s on the agenda or today?”

 

“I’m supposed to help Shai and whomp ye if ye make her sad” He didn’t play any macho hand squeezy games and he seemed eager to get going.

 

“All you need to do is follow us with the wagon when we get moving. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.” Gary was pulling things out of nowhere and handing them off to group members. 

Flora entertained the little ones with her snuffling nose and lips, nibbling at their faces while they clung to her legs and giggled. 

 

Within a few minutes Shai collected the little ones and climbed on the cart with them, joining Becky and Ivy, who was seated behind her drum kit on the flatbed. 

Colorful flowers made from cloth scraps decorated the cart and donkey, all in colors of orange red and yellow. Bunting of braided straw and draped hemlock boughs swayed as the cart began moving.

 

“Just like we rehearsed, slow and easy, listen for the changes. We hit them hard and move on.” As he spoke, the first chime of third bell rang out. The last mellow note was still lingering in the air when he started counting off.

Tallum’s basso profundo seemed to whisper like distant thunder, while being so close and intimate, rumbling through the harmonium on the cart. His rapid fire, aggressive chant brought every eye in the busy ward.

 

Tear the roof off this mother-tear the roof off this mother, 

Tear the roof off this mother-tear the roof off this mother,

Tear the roof off this mother-tear the roof off this mother…

 

Ivy began a steady, crashing beat with kicks and cymbals bursting explosively in pulsing blasts. Tallum waded in with a bass groove that floated on top of her thunder, He plucked and thumped, making his big instrument quack and rumble in time. 

Becky made a small anvil and a pair of light hammers ring in sweet staccato chimes, her rapid, bright percussion drove into the town’s ears and made itself at home.  

Shai had her instrument tucked under her chin, while strolling alongside the rolling storm, layering in subtle harmony. From the back, Dannyl and Liam got a rhythm guitar line ticking along like a triphammer.

Gary had his twelve string out, strumming a smooth steady line behind the groove, while his gifts danced with Shai’s and did all the heavy lifting. 

 

By the time the rest of the band joined in on the harmony with repeated demands for funk, all of the craft ward was fully engaged with this curiosity.

 

They slowly rolled along, a tempest on a donkey cart surrounded by strolling, funky pirates. 

Tallum the bass-rilla strode at the front of their parade, working his bass and his monkey suited backside to full effect. His usual quiet reserve, completely dissolved behind his mask and furry suit.

The giant took long steps and short hops, swinging his ass wherever he thought Ivy might be looking at any moment. He waggled his tush, pranced and skipped with the kind of energy usually seen in preeteens on a sugar rush.

 

The aroma of chocolate and confectionery rose to greater heights as the band approached the market ward, collecting more curious dancers into the swirling musical melee. 

The green caps with rich brown horsies embroidered on them had been absent since their original appearance at the last feast. When they hit the crowd with baskets of bright paper twists things got dynamic. Slippery young lads whispered through the mob, bringing joy and chaos in their wake. 

Distributing sweets in a dancing crowd required grace, agility and finely honed senses, all things they had been trained for extensively by the orphanage. Gary took sublime joy in subverting their training, intended for War, to his own funky ends.

 

The market gate guards stood and stared as the parade marched by. Olan and a few other familiar faces just shook their heads and pretended that things were making sense.

 

‘Give Up The Funk’ wound down, bringing only a scant few heartbeats of peace, before he wound it back up tight. The bass man slipped into an easy, swaying groove and liquid guitar riffs tinkled in over his shoulder courtesy of Dannyl.

 

Hey, come on, come along take a ride,

There's a party over there, that ain't no jive.

 

It's live, live, it's all the way live,

 

Don't even have to walk, don't even have to drive,

Just slide, glide, slippity-slide…

 

‘Fantastic Voyage’ was complex enough without the lyrics, so Gary took over vocals from the back of the group. The ghoul and gorilla fronted the band with frantic energy, pushing the vibe aggressively forward into town. His girls were all the backup singers a man could hope for.

Becky had a clear and ringing, if untrained contralto, making a natural blend with Shai’s rich, rough velvet tenor. 

Otho rode on the tail of the wagon, bouncing Amy and Wilford on his knees in time with the music.

 

Skaters and board riders began orbiting the periphery of the crowd. They pulled stunts and tricks, or delivered filled baskets of sweets in exchange for empties on the smooth paved streets of Wheatford town. 

Subtly they herded the crowd, even when the people left the range of Gary and Shai’s gifts, the stunts and candies lured them along, deeper into town.

 

Tallum was really vibing hard, he shifted into ‘Lowrider’ by War, and almost seemed to use Gary as a weapon to pull the others along with him. 

That strange and jarring tug on his gifts sent Gary grinning even wider. Otho’s mad cackling laughter said he felt it too. The big man would be joining a new cult before sundown.

 

Flora pulled her noisy cart through the gates of the Adventure guild and all the way to the admin building. She stopped in an open space at the foot of the dark temple. Thom chocked the wheels, before leading the donkey off to the carriage house for a visit. Otho and the kids hopped down and vanished in the crowd as the band kept playing on.

 

Gary and Tallum started bouncing back and forth between each other, staying low in the bass register and sending shivers through the crowd.

Once the big bassist was rumbling the tummies of the town where Gary wanted it, he pulled his viola and began wandering in unexpected directions. 

He began to chant strange and rhythmic lines over the wildly varying music. 

 

We are in control of your vibe… 

do not attempt to adjust your groove.

 

Doing it in your ear holes, do ya like it?

 

Chocolate city, you feelin it… 

You will baby.

 

Make my funk the P-funk…

I want to get funked up..

 

A few party people stopped and seemed to wonder what their new local crazy was talking about, then gave up.

 

All around the parade ground booths were set up, noodle and sandwich stalls, beverage gardens, games and tests of skill, all run by avaricious looking orphans. The sweets booth had a few of Ivy’s most reliable assistants managing the scrum. 

 

With the crowd in place and the bait fully taken, Tawny Shai and Liam took over, smoothly transitioning to local dance tunes.

Pianoforte, violin and guitar sang in concert with Shai’s hips to make an intoxicating dance floor in their corner of the parade ground. The trio kept things moving while the rest scattered to further other plots.

#

 

In the craft and market ward, a few people roamed, mostly idle apprentices. They wandered from booth to booth, chatting and trading with the apprentices manning them. 

Craft priest Theo fumed at the empty streets and square, grinding his teeth in fury. He stomped and kicked his way to the office built into the gate between the craft and market wards.

Paul was already there, waiting calmly to receive yet another complaint. 

He picked up a wooden block stamp a friend had carved for him a few days ago and smiled at Theo. He tapped his stamp on an ink pad and struck; ‘Gary Ward, cultist of Secret’ in the ‘accused’ box on a complaint form.

“What did he do now?” Paul asked mildly.

 

Theo ranted and raved for only a few minutes, he ran out of energy quickly. Paul nodded and smiled, commiserating with the master smith. Gary was frankly, exhausting.

“There is no law against luring patrons to a festival in another district. The practice is encouraged by Craft himself, despite Order’s reservations on the matter.” The knight set his form aside, he would probably need it later.

 

“They used magic, enchantments, irresistible mental and emotional lures to control the people, that is in violation of sacred law! Mental control gifts and spells are taboo!” Theo’s red face slowly turned a less dangerous pink, as his breathing slowed.

 

Paul looked out the window at the wandering apprentices and scant crowd. “Irresistible control? I felt the magic involved, simple influence and a bit of rhythm is not a mental attack by any means.” 

He smiled benignly. “Gary said you might come by, he suggested that you settle things with a battle of the bands in the court of Joy this evening.”

 

The red came flooding back into the smith’s face. He turned an almost virulent purple before regaining some control. “I wish to file a complaint regardless.” He said, when he could manage, without flinging spittle across the room. 

 

“So that is a no, to the battle of the bands?” He asked, while selecting a quill and retrieving his form.

#

 

Gary and Shai were coaching Daniel of Joy and Becky through ‘Minor Swing’, with Dannyl and Liam carrying the rhythm guitar part along nicely. 

Ivy was off managing her orphans, sending green capped skaters in every direction, bringing flying monkeys to mind.

 

The vast emptiness of the parade ground quickly became a warm mass of humanity, as more folks poured in from uptown. Orphans with carts and trays circulated freely in the milling crowd, peddling crafts and treats. 

 

Three hot beverage tables, set up to handle the overflow were immediately besieged. The green caps on the orphans working there drew women in magnetically. The big wooden mugs they sold for a copper bit and refilled for an iron bit flew off the shelves.

 

They closed down for sixth bell, when clouds loomed in to check out the fun, dropping a few wet flakes of snow on the last festival goers. 

Tallum and his cousin pulled the wagon into a storage shed Gary conjured in the corner of his yard. Flora was enjoying an afternoon with her friends in the stable, so they dragged it in for her. 

The whole population of Harlan’s forge joined the Wards and the bathers in the common room for an early dinner and inevitable hotspring hijinx.

“I knew your new chocolate would be popular, but that hot chocolate drink is a force of nature. We sold almost all of those mugs of yours.” 

Ivy relaxed against Tallum in exhaustion, while he clung to the curb of the pool partially asleep already. 

“There probably aren't enough loose copper and iron bits left in town to do normal trade.” She giggled viciously. “We may get a visit from the trade guild association soon.”

 

“Who am I in trouble with now?” Gary asked, not really caring at all and showing it.

 

“The trade guild will ask to make change and negotiate an exchange rate, they will want all those bits back in circulation.” Ivy was too tired to explain monetary policy. “Just cash them in for larger coins, Harlan will be in charge, he won’t screw you over too badly.”

 

“Do I have leverage? Can I squeeze some goodies out of him?” Gary asked eagerly. “They’ve been yanking my chain, it feels good when I yank back.”

The look Shai sent his way scuttled that idea.

 

“Dinnae make trouble wi papa Harlan boy, come, we’re fer the dance, Tis in the court of Joy” Shai chivvied him out the door and into the cold, gray late evening. Amy and Wilford waved from Tallum’s enormous arms as Liam, Tawny, Dannyl, Otho and Becky strolled out into the infrequently drifting snowflakes.

#

 

They staggered back through wet, slushy snow and a chill wind that whispered of ice and sleet. The babysitters were asleep together on a sofa looking over the snow clad garden and steaming public pool. 

Ivy and Tallum stirred and wandered off to bed as the others bathed and unwound.

 

Both little ones were sacked out together in Becky’s bed, somehow managing to fill the whole thing to capacity. After a few short minutes of child moving, tucking and kissing everyone was bundled away but the sleepy pair.

“After this night ye may sleep wi nae fae dust, Joy does ask ye fer another night of tiptoeing through the town. She does be highly entertained by yer tricks.” Shai pressed a wad of the familiar drug to his lips, sending dreamless sleep crashing on him. 

#

 

Moonlight cast an ethereal glow on the rhime of ice and snow that coated everything around. Cloudy icicles in the trees tinkled and crackled as the sky cleared and a frigid wind drove in from the north east.

Gary sat in the garden, on a bench in his full armor, playing a new flute. Low haunting sounds found rhythm and harmony with the wind in the branches. 

The wind and the man played a tranquil, moaning song of quiet anticipation, in the voice of a sleeper, awakening slowly.

He felt and then heard Liam’s guitar pick up the melody before he saw his brother, joining in seamlessly as he draped Gary’s gifts around himself like a warm blanket.

“I’m keeping this sash Gary, this thing is amazing!” Liam was dressed for a comfortable walk in the springtime, even in his favorite sandals. He dandled his toes in an icy snowbank and grinned. “Will it keep me cool in the summer?”

 

“Yup, as long as one of your out of town friends is within a mile or two. It runs on the magic we give off naturally.” He made a small adjustment to his instrument while Liam carried the melody.

“A normal spiritual magic enchantment would only last a few days at most, or a few minutes in weather like this. The sash feeds on us, the way a plant feeds on the sun. Your mana only provides the interface with your natural aura…” 

He kept going until Liam stopped playing, reached out and gently shoved the business end of a flute into the noisy end of the man. 

 

Shortly after dawn, while all of Wheatford was sleeping late under its blanket of ice, Tawny sauntered up looking sassy and cold at once.

“Gary why are you wearing that awful thing again? Liam, aren’t you freezing?” She demanded, while wearing the smile of someone who is getting away with something.

“I’m wearing this for the same reason he’s wearing that, magical comfort enchantments. Aren't you wearing that hideout wand holster I made you?” Gary asked in mild annoyance as he leaned on a strange wooden flute, nearly as long as he was and big around as small tree.

 

“Why would I need my wand in town? What a foolish…” She grimaced and pulled her golden hood closer around her cheeks. “Lets get inside before I freeze.” 

 

As she shepherded them inside, she muttered; “Men…” As though that answered everything.