Fergus Eugene O’Shay

Glad you could join us for the next carnivorous episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Vernon took a step back. “I’m sorry, but why I should trust you? For all I know, you’ve been confined because you’re a raving lunatic or a bloodthirsty murderer or—”

“—an honest fool who celebrated his best mate’s weddin’ with a wee bit too much nectar. I tell ya, me boyo, it’s humiliatin’ enough ta hafta admit to a total stranger that I got meself stuck in this embarrassin’ predicament — can ya even begin imaginin’ the grief me wife’s gonna bless me with when I git home? I’m dead sober now. When I git home, I’m just gonna be dead.”

It hurt, but for the first time in days, Vernon laughed. He could smell the hopper’s fermented breath and see the simple truth in his eyes.

“All right, my friend, I think I can help.” With a grimace, he flitted to the back of the flower and pricked the stem where it joined the blossom’s head. Its jaws opened, and its prisoner leaped out.

“Thank’ee. Yer a good lad!” He bowed low, “Fergus Eugene O’Shay, at yer service.”

The Queen’s Liaison clenched his wounds and pushed courtesy aside. “I’m Vernon,” he replied. “You saw what happened?”

“Aye, that I did. Might I be askin’ first whose friend ya ahre?”

Words spun out of his dizziness. “The snail’s… Two wasps… captured her.”

Eyes wide, Fergus stared at the gash on Vernon’s chest. “Yer the one that fancy fella went off ta kill, then, ahre ya? Is that why yer bleedin’? He’s dead then, is he?”

Vernon nodded as his knees buckled and the meadow went dim.

To be continued. . .

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