This place is way too small, Lena. Why are we even here?”
“You know why,” she spoke just beyond the wall. “Another continental conquest…”
“… this time Nautilus, I know.” He simmered a bit more, wishing Lena would finish up. When she did they switched places. Physically relieved, he calmed down some. He didn’t have it bad now. At least they were away from the cursed continent where the Horns resided. They had their newborn King to deal with. They’d be busy for a while; not bother them. Lena and he could take their time. Maybe even start up — dare he think it — a romance. In this small boat on loan from the Maebaleia navy, they were practically living on top of each other anyway. Might as well complete the deal.
“How’s ‘Creepy Alley’ going?” Zach decided to ask. Always the question about the song/album around 10 o’clock. Just before breakfast, for him usually Toasty-O’s, dodecahedron style these days. He can’t get enough of the new shape and taste. He ponders whether they might actually use some kind of drug to make the stuff more addictive, but then remembers sugar is its own drug. He promised Lena he’d try to ween himself off of it. Wasn’t working yet. Pressure of touring not helping the addiction. Better pop in a Mars bar to tide me over till lunch, he thinks at 11.
11:30. Lena’s morning yoga. Sugar rush going full strength, Zach looks on very interested.
Practically — on top of each other (already).
Oh. The song and same named album is going along swimmingly, she said back there, which was then next for Lena, Zach still tagging along like a lost puppy. Poor Zach. He’ll never know what hit him in the Black.
“Gall darn flag,” he said when it slapped him during a random wind eddy while he stared, not understanding the foreboding.