Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

“Everything would have been fine, but the corgi and the crow came at me so fast I couldn’t stop ’am. They plowed into me, and as they did the bracelet looped over the dog’s snout. That’s probably why I’m so fluffy and blessed with these tiny legs and adorable butt. The corgi was the real traveler, and I was along for the ride. The rest you know.”

“Whoa!” Dorian gulped. “At least I had control over my amalgamation.”

“Yeah. What’s that all about?”

“Without going into detail, I’m kind of a chameleon. When I touch someone, I can mirror whatever outstanding traits they have. Earlier I caught a frisbee in my mouth and tap-danced!”

Griffin furrowed his brow.

“Oh, not together. That would be a weird set of talents to have, wouldn’t it? So, anyway, underneath the bracer I have a bunch of fingers graphed to my arm from people with different skills we thought I might need while I look for Cadence.”

“I’ve got to admit, in my former life I would’ve thought you were a whack job, but after all, I’ve been through hearing that you get powers from other people’s fingers seems pretty reasonable!” Griffin chuckled.

“Do you have any special talents?” Dorian asked.

“Are you looking to add to your finger collection?” Griffin folded his hands behind his back.

“No! I was just asking! I . . .”

Griffin waved him off. “I was just joking! Besides, I don’t think being extraordinarily clumsy would be particularly useful.”

The yellow line on the floor that acted as their navigator hooked right. The two followed suit and entered a short hallway that ended at a simple entry door. The line continued along the floor and up and around the door as a bright yellow casement. A window in the top half of the door contained curtains gathered at the center, forming them into an hourglass shape. Below that hung a festive holiday grapevine wreath. A mat adorned with the saying “You know what to do!” lay at their feet.

“Here we are!” Griffin proclaimed.

“Not exactly what I would have expected. Now, what?”

“There’s the rub. Despite the mat’s rather matter-of-fact message, no one has figured out what you are supposed to do.”

“Did you knock?”

“Yep.”

Dorian scanned the doorway.

“Did you ring that doorbell?”

“We have tried pushing the button, but we have never heard a sound come from inside. No one answers.”

Dorian examined the bell button more closely. “It appears to have a speaker attached to it.” Out of habit, Dorian depressed the button and said, “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” the speaker replied in a familiar tone.

“Thermos.”

“Thermos, who?”

“Thermos be a logical explanation for this.”

There was a moment of quiet followed by the click of the intercom.

“That’s not very funny, but the wordplay is quite clever. I guess I’ll allow it.”

A heartbeat later, Dorian found himself transported to the opposite side of the door and standing in a very familiar kitchen. The aroma of roses and spice wafted across the room from a simmering saucepan on the stove. It caressed his nostrils and made him a little lightheaded.

“Be a dear and turn down the heat on that.”

Granny sat with a five-gallon bucket partially filled with water balloons tucked between her feet. She tied off the end of the balloon and dropped it into the others.

“You’re Numia?” Dorian gaped.

“Yes. The stove, please.”

Dorian spoke while he lowered the heat. “I never noticed that door before . . .”

He pointed behind himself at a section of wallpaper that contained a plastic wall clock fashioned after a cat flicking its tail. Its eyes moved left when its tail moved right and visa-versa.

“Why, whatever do you mean?” she winked. “Come. Sit. Keep me company.”

Dorian pulled up a chair from the kitchenette set.

“You’re looking kinda shiny and fancy. Is your hoodie in the wash?” Granny teased.

“This old thing? I’m trying out a retro look. Whattaya think?”

“Needs a codpiece.”

Dorian squirmed a little. “So, as you just confirmed, you’re in charge of awkward moments and uncomfortable situations?”

“Unfortunate Circumstances.”

“Oh, right. So, you’re her?”

“You betcha!”

“I guess that I should be honored that I’m regularly put in awkward situations by the queen herself,” Dorian laughed.

“Not a queen. Goddess. Well, technically a demi-goddess.” Granny corrected.

“A demi-goddess who runs one kick-ass motel,” Dorian added.

Granny peered over the top of her glasses. “Ooo, flattery. Someone wants something.”

“I needed help and Griffin said that Numia might be able to help me.”

“Beak Boy? He’s one of the good ones. What do you need help with, dear?”

“Cadence was taken and is being held down here somewhere.”

Granny’s mood shifted. She sat upright in her chair. “What do you mean she was ‘taken’?”

“Charlie took her as a proxy in a ritual we . . .”

“Charlie?’

“Yes. Charlie, the ferryman.”

Granny dipped her head and rubbed her temples.

“You turn your back for one minute and that little shit starts scheming,” she muttered. She looked back up at Dorian. “What is that jackhole up to now?”

“DeLeon’s roadies were doing a ritual to bring him back to the current day. Charlie took her to replace him.”

“The ritual, did it use coins?”

“Yeah. There was a quarter and two other old coins.”

“And DeLeon didn’t reappear as soon as Cadence was taken?”

“No,” Dorian shrugged.

“That conniving little turd is up to something,” Granny groaned. “Did you know that he is literally pond scum? He was formed from the residue floating atop the waters of time. Instead of skimming his nasty ass from the surface and flicking it into the abyss, he gets molded into a middle manager with questionable boating skills.”

Granny shook her head.

“Anyway,” she continued to think out loud. “DeLeon is still down here. Cadence is down here. You are here and you are wearing DeLeon’s breastplate.”

Granny rocked and nodded her head in tiny motions as she held an internal conversation about the situation. She stared at the floor and then at the bucket of balloons. She groaned again. “When it rains, it pours!”

“What?” Dorian gasped.

“This situation,” she pointed at the balloons, “Is playing out, real-time, right now. I’ve spent too much time resolving it to allow it to go sideways. I need to fix this and then I can help you handle your thing, but I’ll need your assistance.”

“Anything you need, I’m your man!”

“Anything?” Granny winked and seductively shrugged a shoulder.

“Uh . . .” Dorian stammered.

“Just kidding!” Granny laughed. “You are so not my type. Fill those with the stuff in the pot on the stove.” She pointed to a pair of neon plastic super-soaker water guns leaning against the wall. “Get the funnel from the cupboard. Keep the spillage to a minimum, please. That’s all we’ve got.”

Dorian retrieved the funnel and grabbed a shallow bowl he saw on the shelf below it. He placed the bowl into the sink and placed one of the squirt rifles above, allowing it to bridge across the porcelain.

“Bright boy!” Granny complimented.

“It will catch the drips!” Dorian replied, feeling clever.

The filling of the squirt guns went without excessive spillage or the need for the drip bowl. Dorian returned the guns to their former location.

“What else can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing else here, but I do need one more thing,” Granny scrunched her nose as she continued. “I need you to turn the breastplate over to Beak Boy.”

“What? Why?” Dorian resisted, crossing his arm across his torso.

“I need him to have it. It is key to resolving my current dilemma.”

“What about my current dilemma? What about Cadence?”

“We will get to her in time. Right now, I need you to trust me.”

Granny stared deep into Dorian’s eyes and mouthed, “Trust me”.

“You promise to help me find Cadence?”

“I promise.”

Dorian took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Great! Let’s get Beak Boy in here so he can kick your ass and become master of the armor.”