Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 5

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"I don't know whether to laugh or vomit," a voice wakes me. Max, sitting up and watching from his bed, sends a humored disbelief my way. The candles on the dresser are relit, and Max slides back into his boots. Nana still has her arm around me, right where she left it, and her eyes linger on my face.

"You truly have no standards," he adds.

"Shut up," I groan, loosening Nana's arm from me and getting out of bed. I help her up, Max snickering quietly to himself, and put her coat back on.

"Good morning, sirs and madam," the innkeeper says out in the lobby, bright and cheerful. "Care for a biscuit for your travels?"

Max and I eye him with an odd look. The groomed man extends a platter to us filled with a single layer of round fluffy golden things. Had he been awake all night? Where did the biscuits come from? Though they look warm and delicious with their buttered tops, did some sinister concoction hide within? Or did a paranoia take up residence in my mind?

"Thank you," Max says, reaching out a hand and taking one for each of us. He takes a big bite of his, half of it already gone. Nana nibbles on hers. I keep mine in my hand, wary to taste it, but thank the man regardless.

Outside, I toss the biscuit into the dirt.

"Well that's rude," Max says, looking at the now-filthy thing.

"Just a bad feeling," I shrug it off. "How does it taste, though?"

"S'alright, weird aftertaste. Not bad, just weird."

"If you start to cough up blood or something, you're on your own," I tease as we make our way to our horses.

"She can ride with you today," Max declares, his mouth full of the other half of the biscuit.

I don't protest. He gives her a hand once I'm on. She wraps her arms around me again, holds me tight, and happily wheezes that word once more. Elbert. Now that I am awake, there is enough energy in me to fuel curiosity.

"What is that, Nana?" I ask. If she offers an answer, I cannot hear it. She remains still, holding onto me close, as we ride down the street.

We pass under another large sign, likely similar to the one on the other side of town, and the road brings us back to the wild. Hills roll to the west while plains stretch to the eastern horizon, trees dotting both landscapes. Ahead, far in the distance, lies another thick clump of wood. Birds fly and sing high above, daring to race against the slow wind. Their sweet songs accompany the trotting rhythm of the horses. We ride like this for a long while, following the occasional curve and bend of the road as that distant forest creeps ever closer. A few little groves of tall trees visit the roadside every now and then, providing a momentary shield from the sun. The air holds more warmth that it had last night, but a twinge of chill remains, though not uncomfortable.

Something glimmers ahead, a round and brief shine. It comes and goes in a short succession, fading in and out. Out from it manifests three beings: two men and a white tiger between them. The men's faces are painted, thick black lines around their eyes and mouths and the rest a menacing red. Dressed in black leather from the neck down, and each wielding a dagger in opposite hands, they stare us down. The white tiger snarls as it crouches, showing off its large teeth. It issues a roaring command to stop as we come near, and we obey.

"Surrender what coin you have," the one on the right demands.

"All your valuables, too," orders the other.

"Do so and you shall be free," they say together.

"That's a weird fuckin mantra," Max says out of the corner of his mouth.

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