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The Bonnie Lass
I’m not sure what surprises me more, that we made it to the marina without another attack, or that we didn’t get pulled over by the Highway Patrol.
They say people today don’t want to get involved. That’s true to a point, but something as crazy as what happened to us on the freeway is probably pushing the boundaries of what people would brush off and ignore.
The shadow goblins and all those creatures seem to be invisible to the general population of normal people. So, maybe other drivers nearby didn’t see hundreds of doll-sized silhouettes with glowing silver eyes climbing onto our hood and exploding into smoke clouds. I can’t explain how no one reacted to Maple’s fusillade of energy bolts. Yeah, she’s a faerie and not very big. Still, the magic she used to destroy those creatures kinda looked like tracer bullets… only more yellow-orange in color. How did no one see that?
Maybe the unicorn blotted us out of the awareness of people nearby. Unicorns can do that, evidently.
Well, the important thing here is that we made it to Marina Del Rey without any serious injury.
Kingsley navigates the parking area and pulls up in a loading zone. “Got some people meeting me here to take the truck back home for me after they return the trailer to the rental place.” He winks at me. “I’m counting on you for a ride home later.”
“That can be arranged.” I smile. “Say, it’s probably a bit late to ask, but you’re sure your friend’s boat is up for this kind of a trip?”
“Most definitely. It’s not a small boat… though it’s not exactly equipped to transport horses. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
“She can get herself onto the boat if we’re close. Her magic isn’t gone,” says Paxton. “It’s just weak.”
We exit the truck. So that no one sees us opening and closing a seemingly empty horse trailer, Maple decides to create a distraction. What kind of distraction? Well, it looks like a truck carrying fireworks just went off in the distance. I’m pretty sure it’s only an illusion spell.
It’s enough, though. Not one person in sight is paying attention to us as we unload the unicorn from the trailer. The uni moves over to the sidewalk and stands there while Paxton hugs her around the neck.
A minute or three later, a small grey Mercedes pulls up. Two well-dressed men are inside who both look like junior lawyers. The guy in the passenger seat gets out and approaches Kingsley. They have a brief conversation, after which he gets into the pickup truck and pulls away.
I guess we’re committed now. There goes our ride.
The little Mercedes follows the truck.
It’s handy to ‘have people’ like that, I suppose. Alas, I’m kind of a do-it-myself kinda gal. Hiring employees is too much effort.
We make our way from the lot into the marina and down to the pier. Kingsley seems to know where he’s going. Before long, we’re standing in the shadow of a ship quite a bit larger than I expected. It’s no yacht, nor is it a cruise ship. The only visible feature that seems unusual is a bunch of blue-painted metal near the back with a mini-submersible hanging from it. Well, not hanging so much as up on deck and chained down.
‘The Bonnie Lass’ is painted in dark blue fancy letters across the stern.
The boat doesn’t appear to be in danger of falling to pieces any time soon. It’s also impressively large. Hmm. Kinda weird how I keep wanting to use the phrase ‘impressively large’ whenever Kingsley is remotely involved in something, huh?
Later, Sam. That can wait.
Speaking of large… a big, hairy man in blue overalls emerges from an oversized doorway on the side of the boat, then proceeds down the gangway to the pier. He’s about the same height as Kingsley, and pretty much just as wide at the shoulder. Obviously, he’s a completely different person, but the two major differences between him and Kingsley are the beard and the belly. This guy’s sporting a very generous waistline. If his beard wasn’t salt and pepper colored, he could totally pull off Santa Claus. Well, maybe Santa Claus from the land of the giants. He’s considerably taller and broader than your average mall Santa.
His long semi-curly hair spills off his shoulders, seeming to merge with the matching beard.
Upon first sight of him, Paxton smiles. That’s a good sign.
Hmm, I can’t say ‘the big guy’ now since I won’t know which one I’m talking about.
“Sam,” says Kingsley. “This is Angus Stewart. Angus, this is Sam.”
“Aye, wow.” Angus regards me with a bit of surprise and reverence, then gives Kingsley side eye. “Ye sure ye donnae pluck yerself a siren outta the depths?”
“Been there, done that.” Kingsley chuckles. “Sam’s not a siren.”
“Reckon not. She could put a siren tae shame.” He winks at me.
I’m going to assume that whatever he’s saying is some attempt at a compliment. It’s awkward since he’s not offering a handshake or even seeming to expect me to extend a hand. So, I simply stand there without making any sort of gesture. “Thanks. I really appreciate you lending us the use of your boat on such short notice for a trip this long.”
“Ach, it’s not ae problem.” He claps Kingsley on the shoulder. “Ain’t tae much left in the world fer me ta find interestin’ and unusual. All I ask of ye is if’n I get the chance to lay eyes on the wee beastie.”
