Chapter 55 Hours.

Chapter 55: 55 Hours.

"Is the house burning down?" Elsa demanded while scrambling upright, her golden hair adorably messed up. "Because such treatment of royalty is otherwise inexcusable!"

"Arf! Arf!" Ayra had already recovered, instantly alert. "Master? What’s wrong? Is there danger?!"

"Paper," I gasped, lunging for the nightstand drawer. "Need paper and a pen."

"Has he gone mad?" Elsa squeaked anxiously to Ayra, who just shrugged and got out of my way as I crawled off the bed and rifled through a drawer.

I found a notepad and pen, frantically sketching the symbol before it could fade from memory—bat wings, heart halo, and those strange but simple runes burning in my mind’s eye. My shaking hand still produced a passable recreation.

"I saw her," I explained while still drawing. "Juniper, I’m pretty sure. In my dream. She spoke to me. She looked—fucking wild."

That got their attention. Both women crowded around me, their sleepiness vanishing as they peered at my sketch.

"What did she say?" Ayra asked as her tail began to sway to and fro.

"She can’t get through the portal yet," I explained while tapping the drawing. "The connection needs strengthening. We need these marks as tattoos—you two get the full symbol over your wombs, I just need the runes over my heart."

Elsa snatched the paper, studied it with narrowed eyes, then exchanged a look with Ayra. "Yes, I recall Seer Morvain instructing us about lore related to this. These marks are reminiscent of something the last generation of heroes used to strengthen the link between party members and bolster their connection to the System—but I thought the method was lost."

"Apparently Juniper rediscovered it," Ayra whispered with eyes dewy from awe. "How long were we separated on her end that she managed to reverse engineer this magic?"

After I finished, checked, and double-checked the drawing, I flopped back onto the bed. "So we need magical tattoos based on my dream vision. That’s the plan."

"Going by the runes at the center, it appears to be a binding mark that creates a tether between us which cannot be broken," Elsa explained while scrutinizing my drawing. "If Juniper says it will help her cross over, she’s likely correct."

"So we’re really doing this? You girls are okay with tattoos over your lower abdomens?" I couldn’t hide my skepticism.

Elsa’s nose crinkled. "Defacing my perfect royal skin isn’t ideal, but if it reunites our party and binds us more securely to you..." She shrugged reluctantly.

Ayra bounced with excitement. "I’ve always wanted a mark like this! It’s sexy! The Moon Mother’s highest priestesses get ritual scars that they paint over once a month on the night of the full moon, but a permanent inking seems much more practical."

I glanced at the bedside clock—5:57 AM. Too early to take action right away, but sleep was definitely no longer an option for me with how fast my heart was racing from the odd dream visit and subsequent heart-pounding impromptu drawing session.

"Let’s talk about this over breakfast," I suggested. "I need coffee before I can process any more weirdness."

By 9 AM, I was researching local tattoo artists while the girls discussed their impending markings with different levels of enthusiasm.

Elsa poked her half-eaten waffle. "It should be quick, right? Just a few moments of mild discomfort?"

I didn’t have the heart to tell her stomach tattoos hurt like a bitch and a half and took hours. Some truths are better learned through experience.

"I’m calling this place," I said, showing them a well-reviewed shop called Ink Dragons. "Best ratings within fifty miles." The girls didn’t protest, so that was that—not that they knew enough about anything around here to protest.

Val, a gruff-voiced woman, answered on the third ring. I explained our situation—minus the supernatural and sexy parts—and asked about a house call.

"We don’t typically work off-site," she informed me. "Insurance reasons."

"I understand," I said, preparing my ace. "But we have mobility issues here." I was, of course, thinking about portal drama. "I’d happily pay double your rate for the trouble."

A pause. "Double, you say?"

"Fuck it, make it quadruple. Plus gas expenses and some leftover pizza for the road," I added, watching Ayra’s tail wag faster with each word.

"You would’ve had me with just the pizza, but hell yeah. What kind of tattoos are we talking about?"

"Three tattoos, three people, same design on the girls, a less detailed one for me. Two stomach pieces for the ladies, smaller chest piece for yours truly."

Another pause. It took longer this time, but I figured it was because she was jotting details down. "I might be able to accommodate that. I’d need to bring quite a bit of equipment."

"Money’s not an issue," I assured her. "We’re only forty minutes from your shop according to Shmoogle Maps."

After more negotiation, she agreed to come around noon. I hung up feeling simultaneously relieved and terrified. I was getting a tattoo. And two beautiful women were getting matching womb tattoos that would in some magical way connect us forever. Big steps.

Ayra bounced in her seat. "It’s happening! Will it hurt? Is it like Moon Mother branding? Do we burn or do we bleed? Both? None of the above? Please say none of the above."

"I can’t do that," I said, watching Elsa’s face pale. "But it’s manageable pain. Think of a shallow cut that keeps happening over and over again without stopping for a couple hours straight."

"Hours?" Elsa’s voice hit a heretofore unknown register. "You neglected to mention the time commitment!"

I smiled sympathetically. "This will bring Juniper to us. Good work takes time, Princess. But I’ll hold your hand through all of it."

Elsa huffed, but her shoulders relaxed at the reassurance. "As First Maiden of the Hero’s Party, I shall demonstrate my fortitude—but you’d really better hold my hand, Grey Coleman!"

I stood to clear breakfast dishes. "Now let’s clean up before our guest arrives. And maybe figure out how to handle all the ears and tails."