Ogreness, Black Lake-book5

Chapter 20
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Two tons of rock had to be layin’ across my chest when I woke. The eyes held a beach of sand in them and I worked to blink it away. What? I couldn’t move my arms or legs. Had I been paralyzed in my battle with the mutant troll?

Ezra stood fifteen feet away. Her mouth moved.

“What?”

“Didn’t want to leave without wakin’ ya,” she said. “Didn’t want ya to miss council.”

“Uh, yeah.”

What was the mound I was lookin’ over to see Ezra?

I couldn’t remember gettin’ back to my cousin’s. Pretty much everything after kick me off the mountain was a blur.

Holy moly. I had a hen layin’ across me. Whoa. Not one, but two. Whoa. At least they wore clothes. I let out a sigh, but it was hard to replace the air in my lungs, from the weight. Who?

I tried to shrug one awake, but didn’t get nothing.

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

Grumble.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, it’s still dark out.”

How did she know? Pretty sure Darshee didn’t open her eyes. I looked around for the third hen, but the three of us were alone—on the bed. That was one thing I could gather some relief from.

“Wizper. Get up. I can’t breathe.”

She leaned up. Stared at me a ten-beat. “Well, at least we bedded ya finally.”

“Funny. Get up.”

“Why?” That was Darshee.

“Because I have to get presentable for council.”

Wizper leaned up again, blinkin’ hard. “Ya’ll never look presentable today. Well, ya’ve never been presentable before, so no change.”

Funny. I shrugged. Shrugged. My arms were numb. Couldn’t move my fingers.

“Jokes aside. Ya have to get off of me. I’m dyin’.”

“Takes more than a skinny hen to smother a hunky bull,” Darshee mumbled.

I whined about not being able to move my limbs. Darshee suggested I should just go back to sleep then. Knuckles rapped the open door.

“Ya three finished horsing around?”

I think Nuel was workin’ to keep a smile off her face. She wore nothing but her nightshirt. I mentally paused to take her in. The light in the hall behind her glinted through the thin cotton of her shirt displayin’ a curvaceous set of hips.

“What are ya looking at?” Nuel asked.

“Uh. Nothing. Just hopin’ ya’d pull a hen or two off of me. I can’t move.”

“Moved pretty good last night,” she said.

Whoa. What did that mean? I hissed Darshee and Wizper’s names. “Get up. I’m not kiddin’.”

Wizper leaned back, blinkin’. “Oh, my head.”

Darshee worked a hand up to my face, without liftin’ her head from my shoulder, grasped my face and rocked it back and forth. Uh. Wasn’t sure what that was for.

“Wizper. Come on. Ya’re the sane one. Please get up.”

“The sane one?” Darshee mumbled.

“The light and pretty one, too.”

“Ya die,” Darshee hissed.

“Intelligent. Imaginative. Creative.”

“Ya tryin’ to compliment me off of ya, or woo me?” Wizper whispered.

“Whatever it takes.”

“Ya sure are lumpy,” Darshee mumbled into my chest. “How’d I sleep this way.”

I told her I think it’s called passin’ out.

“Ogres don’t pass out,” Darshee argued.

“Besides, we didn’t drink that much,” Wizper said.

“Yeah. I think ya were pourin’ it down yar throat, not drinkin’ it.”

I had forgotten that Nuel was there. She said something about a double shiner, that she was gonna shower, and I had the awfulest idea in my head, about slidin’ in with her. If I could, I would have slapped myself in the forehead. But there was that glued-to-the-bed problem I had.

~ Nuel ~

What was I thinking, walking down the hall in my nightshirt?

The bull’s eyes practically popped out of his skull. I twisted around and realized the sconce light behind me prolly made velum out of my cotton nightie.

His look was—complimentary. Would have been appropriate if he’d acted a little embarrassed and turned away. The glare was a bit rude.

Maybe I walked down here to ensure the three weren’t snuggled in naked, in some sordid affair. Not that it’s any of my business. I don’t care. All drunks are a hoot to watch make a fool of themselves. Just a shame he looks foolish when he isn’t snookered.

He’s such a dolt.

~