Tricked by Kevin Hearne Page B

shit has more fiber than you. I’m going to tie you nuts-first to a monkey’s cage and make a mix tape of the resulting noise. Then I’m going to take a bag of marshmallows and a pair of granny panties and—”
    Coyote held up his hands in surrender and spoke in low tones to prevent the departing Frank from overhearing. “I hear ya, Mr. Druid, but, look, it really don’t make any differ’nce. You wanted to make a trade and you agreed to the terms.”
    “I didn’t agree to kill any skinwalkers for you.”
    “And Frank didn’t agree to kill those blue-skinned zombie things.”
    “No, but I didn’t lead Frank here to confront them either. Don’t expect me to give you any bonus services. The skinwalkers are your problem.”
    Coyote chuckled. “Well, they might be your problem now too, if that goddess o’ death takes her knife to ’em. Can’t blame me for that, Mr. Druid. She didn’t show up here at my invitation with her hungry silverware.”
    Oberon returned with Frank’s turquoise in his mouth. he said.
    “Thanks, Oberon,” I said, wiping the turquoise off on my jeans. “Let’s go see if we can find you one in the car.” I turned my back on Coyote without saying another word. He didn’t want to know what I was going to do with those granny panties.
    Surprisingly, Granuaile did. “Sensei, what were you going to do with those marshmallows and panties?” she whispered as we walked together. “I mean, I’m sure it had to be dire, but it just didn’t sound as threatening as the potential havoc a monkey could wreak on his sack.”
    “There was more to that recipe,” I admitted. “He cut me off before I could get to the Icy Hot and the gopher snake.”
    “Ew. What would you do with that?”
    “I will leave it to you as an exercise.”
    I decided it would be best to keep Moralltach on me from now on. It wouldn’t be conducive to maintaining the fiction that I was nothing but a geologist, but that wasn’t much of a priority now, if it ever was. Frank and the rest of them could think whatever they liked about me; they’d never guess the truth.
    Of more concern to me was who Hel might talk to now that she’d discovered the slayer of the Norns in Arizona a couple of days after said slayer was supposed to have died. My elaborate attempt to disappear through faking my death would all come to naught if Hel spread it around that I was still walking the earth. She needed to be faked out as well—or eliminated. But trying to invade Niflheim to take on Hel in her home territory didn’t sound like a win to me. She’d have a nearly infinite supply of
draugar
at her command, a moon-devouring wolf hiding in her basement and itching for action, and the original Helhound, Garm, would probably consider me to be a light snack.
    Retrieving the scabbard from Granuaile’s trunk, I sheathed Moralltach and slung it over my back, fastening the leather strap across my chest. I fished out a treat for Oberon before I closed the trunk and tossed it into his mouth.
     Oberon asked. Using the new road, the three of us began to walk up to the proposed mine site.
    I paused to think about it.
Well, I suppose I do
, I replied.
     Oberon reflected sadly.
    Your shoulders aren’t wide enough
, I explained.
    
    Hmm. That sounds plausible. It would require a rather elaborate harness, though. Would the discomfort be worth it?
    The Matrix
and
The Matrix Reloaded
, but the price he had to pay was
The Matrix Revolutions
. Still, the benefits outweighed