Conway's Curse by Patric Michael

1
     

     
    It was a bright and sunny day. The sun shone in happy waves, except at intervals where it was stymied by leafy trees, most of which cast grumpy shadows along the road, and not counting the few that weren’t grumpy so much as sullen because all that happiness raining down on them was damned annoying.
     
    Tion nudged his partner and tipped his head. “Don’t look now, but we’re about to have company.”
     
    Kail followed the direction of his gaze and groaned. “Just keep walking. He might be headed in the other direction.”
     
    “Uh-huh,” Tion muttered under his breath. “And I saw Aunt Santha’s cow flying just the other day.”
     
    “Smartass.”
     
    Tion grinned and adjusted his pack. He gripped his walking stick more firmly as the stranger crossed the meadow and joined the road several yards behind them.
     
    “He’s sort of cute,” Tion whispered.
     
    “Are you daft?” Kail hissed. “He’s, he’s….”
     
    “Yeah, I know, but still.”
     
    Kail rolled his eyes. “Idiocy.” He looked over his shoulder. “Hush now. He’s getting closer.”
     
    Tion nodded, and the pair stared straight ahead as they continued to walk. He felt the stranger’s heavy tread like miniature earthquakes beneath his feet as the man approached, and quashed a momentary flash of alarm. Surely he’d….
     
    “Look out!” Kail shouted and pushed Tion out of the way. He leaped aside and landed with a splash on the opposite side of the road.
     
    The stranger thundered between them, apparently unaware of the near miss. He continued along the road and, to Tion’s outrage, actually seemed to be humming to himself.
     
    “Oh no he didn’t!” Tion stood and dusted himself off as he took stock of his condition. He bent to retrieve his walking stick and felt something broken rattle in his pack. Across the road, Kail was sitting in a puddle, cursing loudly and looking disgusted.
     
    “Still think he’s cute?” Kail demanded.
     
    “Maybe not so much, now,” Tion admitted as he crossed the road, biting his cheek to keep from laughing. He took Kail’s hand and hauled him up. He bit his cheek harder when the smell hit him. “Um, Kail?” Laughter bubbled around the edges of his voice.
     
    “What?” Bright anger, like flashes of fire, flared in Kail’s green eyes. A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw, and he glared ferociously, as if daring Tion to say it out loud.
     
    Tion said it out loud. “That’s not water.”
     
    “I know it’s not water!” Kail roared his outrage, and Tion dissolved into paroxysms of laughter.
     
    “When we get home, I’m going to lodge a complaint with the Roads Division,” Kail railed. “Somebody has to take a stand!” Noxious yellow liquid dripped from his clothing, his pack, and his golden curls.
     
    Tion nodded his agreement, still laughing, and shucked off his pack. He rummaged beneath the flap and found a scrap of cloth. With it, he swiped tears of laughter from his face before handing it to Kail.
     
    “And I’m going to start by giving that big oaf a piece of my mind!” Kail declared as he snatched the cloth. His voice was lightly muffled as he wiped the splash from his face, wiped at his hair, and then dried his hands. Tion bit down hard on fresh mirth as his partner continued to rant, heedless of the fact that the already drenched cloth did little more than spread the mess around.
     
    Tion touched his friend’s arm. “Leave it, Kail. We’ll get you cleaned up at the next stream we cross.”
     
    Kail glared a moment longer before the green fire in his eyes dimmed. His tirade dwindled as well, and he reluctantly nodded. “Okay, but if anybody says anything….” He let the implied threat, and one last flash of green, hang in the air.
     
    “Except for him”—Tion nodded to the retreating form of the stranger—“we haven't seen a soul all day.” He clapped his friend high on the back, one of the few places where the mess hadn’t yet