Sorry Please Thank You by Charles Yu Read Free Book Online Page B

everyone or make us give up gold coins for safe passage or cause us to suffer ordeals. But then Byr went away to the north over summer vacation and when she came back she had that look like someone had cast Slightly Crazy on her, and she was all Frëd this, Frëd that, she couldn’t stop talking about the guy, and we were all like, okay, cool, but you’re not going to go all druid on us, are you?
    “Frëd,” Byr prays, “O Sort-of-Omnipotent One, protectus today. Keep us safe, body and soul. Let us fight without fear, and vanquish our enemies.”
    “Or at least let us not get our asses kicked like last time,” Rostejn adds.
    “Goddammit, Rostejn,” Byr says.
    “No, no, fair enough,” Frëd says, from wherever he is. We can’t see him but his voice booms from on high. “I have to apologize for not doing such a great job the last few moons. I have gotten all of your prayers. Honestly, I’ve just been going through kind of a weird time.”
    Byr reassures Frëd. “You’re fine. Seriously. You know we love you,” she says, and everyone murmurs in agreement, but it’s not the most reassuring thing to realize that the god you worship actually just wants you to believe in him.

    Krugnor turns out to be an absolute beast on the battlefield. Not that anyone is surprised. He’s ripped.
    “Has to be at least Sixteen Strength,” Rostejn says, watching him tear through some bad elves.
    Byr’s like, “Nuh uh. Seventeen, man. Easy.”
    Trin isn’t even fighting, she’s just standing there staring at the dude’s muscles while he brandishes his +3 broadsword. I’m not even sure I could pick that thing up.
    “Does he really have to fight with his shirt off?” I ask, but no one’s listening. He flexes a lot, even when it doesn’t seem necessary, and he can do that back-and-forth thing with his pecs. Ugh, look at him, just standing therein the river as it rushes by and splashes on his hardened body.
    Even Fjoork gets in on the love fest.
    “Did you see what he did to that kobold?” he says. “Split him clean in half, one-handed, with his short sword.”
    If I didn’t know better, I’d think Krugnor had cast Infatuation on everyone. The guy is a totally cheeseball beefcake brooding sulking warrior type. Such a cliché. Although, I have to admit, I do feel safer with him out there in front.
    Maybe that’s what a hero looks like.
    And for the first time since the quest began, I start to feel a little wobbly, as if my POV isn’t so stable. As if the center of things is moving. As if the frame is unsure of who to follow, whose story it is. As if, maybe, I’m not so destined for my destiny after all.

    We cross the highlands and come to a ridge, on the other side of which is the Valley of Aaaa.
    “I’ve always wondered how that’s pronounced,” Rostejn says.
    Byr says a prayer to Frëd as we begin our descent into the valley. We trudge through the Bog of Uncertainty. Trin reminds everyone to be careful of what we eat or even look at. Last time we were in the bog, Rostejn fell under the sphere of influence of a powerful mage in the Abjuration school and almost got everyone turned into black pudding.
    Now we’re in a dead zone for magic. Alteration prevails on one side, and Necromancy on the other. Neither onecan practice in the other’s region, as they are mutually forbidden schools. We walk the tightrope in between, maneuvering carefully, taking the narrow path, as shown on our scrolling map.
    Krugnor follows my lead. Everyone else does, too. I try not to look too happy about it.
    At one point we encounter some halflings, a quiet, intelligent people who live around these parts. One of their young has disappeared. The boy’s mother is sobbing. Trin goes to comfort her. The mother explains that her son had fallen asleep on what he thought was a nice soft pile of leaves.
    “Shambling mound,” Byr says. The mother looks at us, unsure.
    “A creature that looks like a heap of rotting vegetation,” Byr