Power Trio

“Open the box,” Thekla intones.

The campfire they kindled fizzles, as does Evan’s phone. Kell’s hand snakes forth and opens the footlocker, the bulky combination lock folding in half like butter.

Kell steps back. “You know I could have just battered the thing open.”

“Discretion, Kellax Falrak. Discretion.” Sion rummages.

“Not sure what’s discrete about doing a power ballad in an open field,” Thekla mutters.

“Discretion and a good time. And here we are.” Sion removes a Jansport backpack from the footlocker. “I have what I need. You may depart; I’ll put this back.”

“You want to tell us whose stuff this is?” Kell asks.

“No, I do not.”

“You want to tell us what’s in there?” Evan asks.

“If I told you designer drugs, would you believe me?”

“Not really,” Thekla says.

“That wounds.” Sion shakes his head. “That wounds to the quick.”

Evan puts a hand on Sion’s shoulder. “Is whatever’s in there some kind of evil magic thing?”

Sion purses his lips. “It’s not evil.”

“And you aren’t going to use it on us.”

“No.”

“Or to destroy the world or take it over.”

“No.”

“Okay.” Evan gives Sion’s shoulder a companionable squeeze. “Then I think the official take from the throuple is that it’s none of our business. Right?” He looks back at his girlfriends. Thekla shrugs.

“Go nuts, Benefice,” Kell says.

“Your trust is refreshing.” Sion slings the backpack over his shoulder. “I have an additional stop. You may all return to the show if you wish.”

They hike back through the parking lot toward the stage lights.

“The new Sion policy is doing wonders for my mental health,” Thekla says.

“And this way, if he is taking over the world, we’ll definitely be, like, his favorite pets,” Kell says.

“I think maybe we already are.” Evan notices a little shiver from Thekla, does some quick probability calculation, and hangs his suit jacket around her. It’s getting kind of chilly in the evenings.

“Thank you, love.” Thekla glances toward the crowd. “I’m gonna find Teo up at the front and say hi. We parted on weird terms last time. Don’t feel like you guys need to come. The meat man’s probably around him.”

“Probably.” Kell kisses the top of Thekla’s head. “Go do frontwoman shit. We’ll be near the back of the crowd. Text, okay?”

“You bet, babes.” Thekla shoulders her way through the crowd.

Back here at the far end of the crowd, there’s a knot of orcs led by an affable dun orc named Vi’roak. He introduces them as the Love Canal pack. “First time hearing ya, I admit. But fuck me. What a sound. Legendary, right?”

Kell grins. “That’s right, brao’ka. I saw you guys. You were really moving to Fossil Fuel.”

“That was the shouty one, right?” Vi’roak nods vigorously. “That one was tight.”

“If you like that, it’s out as a single,” Kell says. “And the album’s coming… when’s the album, Ev?”

“October 16th.”

“Righteous. Righteous. So Kell. You got a mate around?”

“Sorta.” Kell squeezes Evan’s butt. “This guy.”

“We got a bonfire rite tonight.” Vi’roak’s grin shows his tusks. “You and him should come through.”

“A bonfire rite.” Kell’s face lights up. “Dude, he’s never been to one. I don’t think Thek has either.”

“Sounds like fun,” someone says. Evan knows that voice. “Mind if I come through?”

Thekla was wrong. Ragan isn’t hanging out with Teo. Ragan’s stepping into the circle, still in his white-and-red Thriller-esque concert getup. “You trying to feel like an orc tonight, Kell? Had enough of the human gig? Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Hello, Ragan.” Kell has a small, mean smile on her face. No ignoring him this time. “Did you like the show?”

“Wasn’t bad. I was hoping for a little more new material, but the human song was okay. You write that one, Houper?”

“That’s right,” Evan says, coolly.

“I could tell.” Ragan adopts a hayseed accent for a second. “Kinda country-fried, ain’t it? That’s good. Country’s coming back, they say.”

“Lover boy,” Kell murmurs. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“Stay outta this one, okay?” Kell squares her shoulders. “I’m ready for it.”

“Kind of hurts, Kell.” Ragan’s got that grin on. “You bring Con up there, but you don’t bring anyone from Masonry? Those guitar parts aren’t so tough. I coulda tagged in.”

“I guess we’ll never know, Ragan.”

“We’re playing Saturday, you know.”

“I know.”

He rubs his chin. “Didn’t see you on the flyer.”

“Oh, sick. You’re the Masonry lead guitar,” Vi’roak says.

“That’s right, brao’ka.”

“Cool.” Vi’roak is either blissfully unaware of the tension in the air or trying to defuse it. “You two know each other?”

“You could say that.” Ragan bounces an eyebrow.

Kell stands up straighter. “I did at one point.”

Ragan chuckles. “We didn’t leave off on the best of terms. We were a thing for a bit. I’m afraid I ruined orcs for her. That’s on me. She’s never taken rejection well.”

“I dumped you, Ragan. Remember?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, Kellax. You don’t act like you dumped me. Do I still really take up this much room in your head? You’re living the dream and you never got over me? That’s such a shame.” He sighs. “I feel bad for you.”

Kell takes a step toward him, past Evan, into the center of the circle. “Do you.”

“I really do.” He nudges the orc next to him. “You guys hear about Evan Houper? Like Ray Houper’s son? Kell’s dating him. And the goblin. True story. You bring in Conna? Make it a love rectangle situation?”

“Tell you what, man.” Kell turns to Vi’roak. “Hate to do this to you, but I’m not coming if he’s coming.”

Ragan steps into the circle too. “Careful, Falrak.”

“Careful of what, Ragan? You gonna run to another Buzzard reporter? Tell them I got bad grades in math class?” Kell starts a slow clockwise duelist’s pace. “How about you stay in my rearview where you belong?”

“Your rearview? You’ve forgotten that the only reason you’re in the position you’re in is that Masonry took a chance on you and you got lucky.” Ragan moves the same way. “I said to Teo, hey, it’s a garage band nobody’s ever heard of, they’re basically a bunch of poseur amateurs with a nepo baby elf bankrolling their asses. But let’s throw them a bone. For old time’s sake. And we were the only ones.”

“Even if that isn’t bullshit, Ragan, which it is because I know Teo doesn’t trust you, Shrike did it first.” She lays into him with the percussive force of a drum fill. “This is so fucking funny, man. You’re talking shit about my band when your rhythm section ends up 15 bpm faster at the end of every song cause your untalented ass can’t stop rushing. Walking around like you’re God’s Gift to music when you got the beat of a drunk uncle at karaoke. Had to be someone else’s hired gun cause no one wanted to listen to your trash-ass boomer-bend butt rock clownshit.”

“You want to talk to me like that?” Ragan’s smirk is gone. “You tabloid article? You’re a sideshow. Think you got everyone fooled with your little human’s little sob story? You think if you marry into his racist-ass round-ear family of hicks, the world outside New Layth will accept you? It’s not gonna work, Falrak.”

“Your approval used to matter so much to me. That’s so crazy.” Kell’s smile has only grown as Ragan’s fades. “I can’t believe you ever fooled me into thinking you knew what you were talking about. You’re pretty pathetic, you know that?”

“I see you. They can pretend, but I see you. Whatever talent your little band has is in the ash elf and the songwriter. You’re just the drummer. None of you got here on merit and we both know it. That’s why we’re playing Vail and you’re playing the pre-show. You’re a charity case.”

“Me, a charity case?” Kell belts out a booming laugh. “You’re riding Teo’s coattails because you’ve been kicked out of every band you ever started cause you’re a whiny asshole and you can’t fucking hang because you got no timing. You never did. Remember we went to that Ship of Fools show and you clapped on the lyrics?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you. Dumb fucking hack.”

“You think Raymond Houper’s son can replace an orc?” Ragan demands. “That makes me sick to my stomach. You think he can back you up? That pink shrimp?”

“He’s not replacing an orc, Ragan. He’s replacing you. And you wanna know something? You wanna bring up shrimp?” She licks her lips. “There’s a spot right where it counts that he’s a lot bigger than you.”

“Ranva k’vulo.” Ragan’s boiling over.

“Ranva k’vulo? Try it.” Kell barks a harsh laugh. “Try it. Do something, pussy.”

Ragan’s arm flashes out. So does Kell’s, faster. She twists his wrist into a brutal-looking hold, plants a fancy shoe on his calf and shoves him down to one knee. “I break this next time.” She wrenches his arm. “Get the fuck out of my life.”

She releases him, and he storms to his feet. “Enjoy my leftovers, pinkskin,” he spits at Evan. “Maybe if you yank her tusks out you can bring her home to daddy.”

Kell clocks Ragan, a right hook directly to the face.

He staggers backward. She follows, shoves her forehead against his. She spits out five poisonous-sounding syllables. A stunned ripple goes through the orcish observers. Ragan’s face looks like someone just took a shit on his breakfast. He backs away, gazing with icy rage, then turns on his heel, shoving two of the gathered circle aside as he goes.

Kell strolls back to Evan. She doesn’t look pissed. She looks satisfied.

“God damn.” Vi’roak whistles. “You went there.”

“Yeah, well,” Kell says. “Dude wasn’t getting the message.”

“No, I respect it.” Vi’roak extends a fist and Kell bumps it. “So you gonna take Evan here to the bonfire?”

“Yeah, him and Thekla. That’s cool?”

“Sure thing, sek’va. No restrictions.”

Evan watches Ragan’s receding shadow. “The hell did you say to him?”

“Nothing he didn’t deserve to hear,” Kell says. “I’m gonna teach you orc someday. There aren’t any shared words or anything, but it’s not so tough. Goblin, that’s a bitch and a half to learn. I gave up.” She drapes her arm around his shoulders, exchanges a wave with Vi’roak and his pack as she leads him off into the darkening evening. “Let’s go find Thekla, yeah?”

“Let’s do it.”

“A bonfire rite!” She squeezes him, makes an excited little noise. “Ooh, you guys are gonna love this.”