ichor - jason grace

XIV

It took all four of them to hold back the satyr. For someone so short, he was very strong.

"Woah, Coach!" Jason said. "Bring it down a few notches."

A younger man charged int the room. Nell guessed he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He was dressed in pyjama pants with a sleeveless t-shirt that said cornhuskers, and he held a sword that looked like it could husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would have been more handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.

Lit immediately zeroed in on Jason like he was the biggest threat, and stalked toward him, swinging his sword overhead. In all honesty, it was making Nell miss having a working weapon.

"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for a calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine." Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked wary. It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

"Coach," Jason pleaded, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."

"Thank you!" Said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"

"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper said. "Coach, you first."

Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"

"Again, Hedge. Their house." Nell said, pushing his club down. "Besides, you've already broken their teapot, don't make their day any worse."

"No," Piper said.

"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologise."

"That's a very sucky compromise," said Nell.

"No!" Piper insisted.

"Meh." Hedge lowered his club.

Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile, and Nell joined in with a wide grin.

Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl - fortunately for your friends, or I would have run them through."

"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."

The old man in the bathroom sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."

Lit frowned. "Your Majesty -"

"No, no, it's fine Lit," the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense in observing formalities." He tried for a smile, but it looked more than a little bit forced. Not surprising, if four kids and satyr broke into my house, I wouldn't be best thrilled either. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."

Nell winced. She knew exactly who King Midas was, and she was pretty sure it was her father that cursed him with the ears of a donkey for voting declaring Pan a winner over Apollo.

"Midas? Impossible," said Coach Hedge. "He died."

They were sitting on the couches now, while the king reclined on the throne. Nell sincerely hoped that he had boxers on under there.

Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and Nell, flexing his muscular arms. She couldn't tell if he was doing it to irritate Jason, going by the look on his face whenever he did it, or if he genuinely thought it would get him somewhere.

Piper sat forward. "What our friends mean, your majesty, is that you are the second dead mortal we've met who should be - sorry- dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."