King Henry and the Three Little Trips (The King Henry Tapes) Read online

  King Henry and the Three Little Trips

  The King Henry Tapes #5.5

  By Richard Raley

  Copyright © 2016 by Richard Raley

  http://richardraley.blogspot.com

  www.twitter.com/richardraley

  [email protected]

  Edition: 2016

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are fictitious and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, places or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  NOVELS BY RICHARD RALEY

  THE KING HENRY TAPES

  The Foul Mouth and the Fanged Lady

  The Foul Mouth and the Cat Killing Coyotes

  The Foul Mouth and the Troubled Boomworm

  The Foul Mouth and the Headless Hunny

  The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist

  King Henry and the Three Little Trips (FM5.5)

  The Foul Mouth and the Artificial Court (forthcoming)

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Gush (forthcoming)

  Sky-Island 1827-E

  The Betrothal: Or How I Saved Alan Edwards from 40 Years of Hell

  NOVELLAS AND SHORTS

  Prime Pickings: An Eater Short

  Little King Henry: A KH Short*

  Conquering Hero: A KH Short*

  Friendship is Madness: A KH Short*

  Second Take: A KH Short*

  Griefing: A KH Short*

  Meet the Bonnies: A KH Short*

  King Henry Short Pack One (*included in)

  As always, a toast to Jeff, Josh, Matt, and Brandon

  Who taught me so many wonderful new words in high school.

  Table of Contents

  List of Mancy Types

  King Henry’s Class

  Staff of the Institution of Elements

  Driving Miss Vicky

  Shadow Running

  Home is Where the Crazy Is

  List of Mancy Types

  Mancy Type – Element (Ultra Title)

  Necromancy – Death (Bonegrinder)

  Pyromancy – Fire (Firestarter)

  Geomancy – Earth (Artificer)

  Aeromancy – Air (Winddancer)

  Hydromancy – Water (Riftwalker)

  Electromancy – Lightning (Stormcaller)

  Cryomancy – Ice (Winterwarden)

  Sciomancy – Shadow (Shadeshifter)

  Spectromancy – Light (Beaconkeeper)

  Floromancy – Plant (Forestplanter)

  Faunamancy – Animal (Beasttalker)

  Mentimancy – Mind (Mindmaster)

  Corpusmancy – Body (Facechanger)

  King Henry’s Class

  Student’s Name (Mancy Type)

  King Henry Price (Geomancer)

  Heinrich Welf (Necromancer)

  Valentine “Boomworm” Ward (Pyromancer)

  Asa Kayode (Hydromancer)

  Miranda Daniels (Aeromancer)

  Estefan Ramirez (Electromancer)

  Debra Diaz (Electromancer)

  Curt Chambers (Spectromancer)

  Malaya Mabanaagan (Spectromancer)

  Quinn Walden (Spectromancer)

  Ronaldo Silva (Cryomancer)

  Raj Malik (Cryomancer)

  Hope Hunting (Cryomancer)

  Miles Hun Pak (Sciomancer)

  Eva Reti (Sciomancer)

  Naomi Gullick (Floromancer)

  Preston “Pocket” Landry (Floromancer)

  Tamiko Lewis (Floromancer)

  Nicholas Hanson (Floromancer)

  Sandra Kemp (Floromancer)

  Patrick “Rick” Brown (Faunamancer)

  Jesus Valencia (Faunamancer)

  Jessica Edwards (Faunamancer)

  Robin White (Faunamancer)

  Athir Al-Qasimi (Mentimancer)

  Isabel Soto (Corpusmancer)

  Samuel Bird (Corpusmancer)

  Yvette Reynolds (Corpusmancer)

  Jason Jackson (Corpusmancer)

  Nizhoni Sherman (Corpusmancer)

  Staff of the Institution of Elements

  Name – Institution Position (Mancy Type, Level)

  THE LEARNING COUNCIL

  Maudette “The Lady of the Lake” Lynch – Dean (Hydromancer, Ultra)

  Delores Dingle – Head of Mathematics, King Henry’s Math Teacher (Faunamancer, Intra)

  Christopher Erikson – Head of Languages (Cryomancer, Ultra)

  Phineas Farraday – Head of Sciences (Mentimancer, Ultra)

  Benedict Massey – Head of History (Geomancer, Intra)

  Morgana Lancaster – Head of Physical Education, Facechanger Teacher (Corpusmancer, Ultra)

  Keith Gullick – Head of Elementalism, King Henry’s Elementalism Teacher (Floromancer, Ultra)

  Mordecai Root – Head of Physical Theories, Bonegrinder Teacher (Necromancer, Ultra)

  Antigone Hyde – Head of Mental Theories, Winddancer Teacher (Aeromancer, Ultra)

  Rudolph Meyer – Head of Electives (Faunamancer, Ultra)

  Ceinwyn Dale – Head of Recruiting (Aeromancer, Ultra)

  Russell Quilt – Head of Testing/Non-Voting (Mentimancer, Intra)

  Nigel Rowland – Firestarter Teacher (Pyromancer, Ultra)

  Paul “Plutarch” Nixon – Artificer Teacher (Geomancer, Ultra)

  Leander Marlow – Riftwalker Teacher (Hydromancer, Ultra)

  Noelle Clarke – Stormcaller Teacher (Electromancer, Ultra)

  Alberto Cervantes – Beaconkeeper Teacher (Spectromancer, Ultra)

  Rin Yukimura – Winterwarden Teacher (Cryomancer, Ultra)

  Tristan McBee – Shadeshifter Teacher (Sciomancer, Ultra)

  Leslie Van Houten – Forestplanter Teacher (Flormancer, Ultra)

  Wolfgang Von Welf – Beasttalker Teacher (Faunamancer, Ultra)

  Yuri Jakovic – Mindmaster Teacher (Mentimancer, Ultra)

  OTHER STAFF

  Evelyn Strange – School Doctor, Head of the Infirmary (Hydromancer, Ultra)

  Kumiko Ambrose – King Henry’s History and History of Elementalism Teacher (Geomancer, Intra)

  Jethro “Jet” Smith – King Henry’s Languages Teacher (Necromancer, Intra)

  Nevada Slaton – King Henry’s Science Teacher (Cryomancer, Intra)

  Harvey Pride – King Henry’s P.E. Teacher (Corpusmancer, Ultra)

  Fines Samson – King Henry’s Survival and Defense Teacher, King Henry’s Elementalism as a Weapon Teacher, Partially Retired (Sciomancer, Ultra)

  Audrey Foster – King Henry’s Theory of Anima Teacher (Aeromancer, Intra)

  Rainbow Greenbrier – King Henry’s Elementalism as Art Teacher (Spectromancer, Intra)

  Wilbur Fisk – King Henry’s Theory of Elemental Prophecy Teacher (Faunamancer, Ultra)

  Author’s Note

  Vacations for authors don’t really count. At least for the great ones, the natural ones, the ones who don’t have any choice in what they’re doing with their lives. I’m one of those (at least the natural and choice parts, I’ll leave “great” up to the readers to decide) so when I took a vacation this last summer, I didn’t so much find the nearest beach as defocus from my main quest over the last five years: THE KING HENRY TAPES.

  This let me indulge in some side projects and clean-up jobs that have been niggling at me for the last few years. It also gave me time to think about what happens between those epic adventures that King Henry finds himself taking part in. I’ve written short stories be
fore and one of my clean-up jobs during vacation was to take those short stories and publish them in a single, easy-to-find place for my readers, namely in King Henry Short Pack One, which released this September.

  Doing so, I thought: if there’s a short pack one, why not a two? I came up with three different stories, and started doing as writers do by working on the ideas, flipping between them one after another. The idea began as a short pack, but it didn’t end up as one. It ended up as a novel. Not a Foul Mouth novel told to you by King Henry, but a novel with three interconnected stories that take place on the same day, two weeks after events in “The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist.”

  “King Henry and the Three Little Trips” follows Tyson Bonnie, Eva Reti, and King Henry through the day, each going on a unique journey, be it accompanying Vicky Welf to visit the Coyote Nation compound or returning to the Asylum to ask a mentor for help.

  Almost two-hundred pages, sixty-two thousand words, or ten ‘chapters,’ however you count it, “King Henry and the Three Little Trips” is worthy of being called FM5.5. Between the big adventures maybe, but sometimes it’s the normal days that matter. The normal day when love is ignited, intrigue is set, knowledge is gained, a life is saved and another is lost. Normal though it may be, skipping it would be a huge mistake for anyone calling themselves a fan.

  In a lot of ways, “King Henry and the Three Little Trips” is my note of apology. Sorry that FM5 took so long to write, sorry that FM6 will also take so long to write, and sorry that I finally snapped and needed a break between the two behemoths.

  I promise I’m working as hard as I can on the next full volume in the series, “The Foul Mouth and the Artificial Court,” but until it’s done here’s some appetizers and maybe a few fish tacos to hold you over.

  --RR

  Driving Miss Vicky

  Every time Tyson Bonnie descended the ladder, he was never sure what he would find below. With King Henry Price, the unimaginable got scary pretty quickly. Limits, he doesn’t have any of them, Tyson thought.

  It didn’t help his nerves that the whole ladder setup had not been designed with someone of Tyson’s size in mind, even if he was a full-fledged business partner of this particular enterprise. He had lost a bit of weight in the last couple weeks, a point he was very proud of—though took no credit for. Anxiety, a better weight loss cure than Jenny Craig.

  Anxiety left over from Las Vegas.

  Anxiety left over from the Ouroboros.

  From seeing a fellow mancer assassinated.

  From seeing a girl he admitted to maybe having a tiny crush on, but just a tiny one—please don’t mention it to Vicky, please, please, please!—incapacitated and left on the edge of death.

  From seeing King Henry kill a man.

  Methodically. Little doubt left about the result. Blood staining the cage fence links, pooling in puddles on the canvas floor, especially dripping from King Henry’s scarred knuckles. That snarling defiant grin of his turned rust red as Conan Sapa went from human to a piece of meat in the better part of thirty seconds. That death match wasn’t some epic confrontation, it was waste disposal . . . it’s just King Henry was the only person in the arena aware of the fact.

  Anxiety . . . and acceptance of the new normal. His friend could kill a man, easily. Was Tyson’s friend, no doubt about it. So were Pocket and Jesus . . . he felt included in that little social circle like he never had before. Accepted as one of the crazy few, far more a mancer than the graduation diploma could ever declare.

  King Henry called it the One-in-a-Million World. He said that’s what Miss Dale told him the ratios came out to. One of the good parts of the new normal is King Henry being able to mention Miss Dale’s name without breaking the nearest metal object, though he still has some work to go with Valentine . . .

  Tyson had seen glimpses of that world before. The vampire Annie B, the little misunderstanding with Hector Vega, but never like this. Never mancers worthy of super villainy like Isabel Soto or Obadiah Paine. A crazed woman who I can hit in the chest with a lightning bolt and half the time she’ll get back to her feet completely unfazed.

  Paine was still just a name to Tyson. Or perhaps a symbol of something wrong with the power they all wielded. I should have told Miss Dale. But he had just gained King Henry’s complete trust . . . and . . . I should have told Miss Dale, he thought for the millionth time.

  Anxiety . . . over the idea of calling Miss Dale and telling her that truth.

  Anxiety that makes me understand why King Henry hasn’t said anything to her about it.

  Two weeks gone from Jason Jackson’s funeral and Tyson was still haunted by the expression on her face when he told her about the Three Queens working for the Curator. Ageless, all-knowing Ceinwyn Dale looked hurt and weak and . . . her blue eyes had filled with failure.

  Anxiety and acceptance.

  Acceptance of keeping the secrets.

  King Henry’s secrets.

  If only the Curator was the worst part of it.

  Dragons.

  Black Elves.

  I will believe it when I see it.

  .

  .

  .

  And I hope to never see it.

  That’s what he told himself. But deep down in that chaos-loving, King Henry Price befriending piece of Tyson Bonnie that craved the excitement and the Dirt Devil and even the chance of death . . . a dragon! Black Elves! Whole other realms to explore!

  SO FREAKING AWESOME!

  Even having lost ten pounds, Tyson was always extra careful at descending the ladder that led to King Henry’s underground workshop. He would never hear the end of it from his friend if he somehow got himself caught in the hole.

  I ever tell you fuckers about the time we had to bring in the crane to rescue T-Bone’s fat ass from getting stuck in a hole? I mean, I could’ve just done some geomancer shit and got him out, but I really wanted a picture of the crane and everything. I’d show it to you, but I broke the phone I took it with. And the one after that. And the one after that . . .

  Going down a ladder.

  It felt wrong.

  For most people the floor was the floor, you never descended below it. When Tyson did, he felt like he was leaving behind one world and traveling into another. Maybe not a whole realm filled with magical creatures, but one that was very different from the computer servers and LED screen-banks that he left behind him.

  Down in the hole it was King Henry’s world.

  An Artificer’s world of anima and creation and destruction and one experiment after another. King Henry had barely left that world in the last couple weeks. Tyson had even taken to dropping down fast-food bags and Dr. Pepper cans for him. I suppose I should be happy he comes out to use the bathroom and doesn’t have a bucket down here with him.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  The ladder ran down a wall, the entirety of the workshop behind your back as you took the last few steps. Anything could be at your back, you were never sure. Now it was that banging, noise vibrating from wall to wall, all of it racing towards the open hatch Tyson had entered through.

  Scrape.

  Scrape.

  Scrape.

  Tyson let out a breath when his feet hit the ground . . . or rather the underground. Next he pried his large but soft hands off of the ladder rung at his eye level. He didn’t turn yet, but ducked down his head at the shoulders, also bending his knees just to be sure. King Henry had taken a great deal of joy at only measuring out six feet of clearance space for his workshop. Even if he keeps expanding the whole thing out, I doubt he’ll ever extend it down, just to annoy all the tall people in his life.

  Sizzle.

  Sizzle.

  Sizzle.

  Tyson finally turned.

  King Henry was bent over his worktable, spare anima vials laid out on one side, pieces of triangular metal on the other. He turned off a soldering iron and set it down next to the ruggedized tablet T-Bone had given t
o him. The tablet contained the “Anima Conversion for Dummies” program T-Bone had designed. The program had yet to produce a flawed result. The tablet . . . Well, it still worked . . . so far. It did have a crack in the glass, but only one.

  I’ll have to buy them in bulk.

  There was much more to the workshop than just the table. The whole wall opposite of Tyson housed anima vials—almost shockingly full, a surprising change that had come out of the Ouroboros. Before, mancers knew of him, but could ignore him as a passing fad sure to fail. Now, every mancer couldn’t wait to supply the man who had spit in the Curator’s eye. If that’s actually what happened, Tyson thought, wondering for the hundredth time why Obadiah Paine sacrificed Conan Sapa so quickly and what his ulterior motive might be.

  Along another wall was a series of smaller workstations, one for Static Defense Rings, another for floro-seeders, even a third for King Henry’s Magic Little Balls—which was currently being completely reworked. Most everything is being reworked. Reworked or redesigned or brought forward from experimentation or concept into reality for the first time.

  Some of them King Henry talked about. Others he kept as secrets, not so much because he didn’t trust Tyson, but because he liked to spring surprises on him when some new artifact would appear out of nowhere, fully formed and operational.

  King Henry paused in his work long enough to glance back over his shoulder at Tyson. “I fixed the Adama-Whatever-the-Fuck Coat last night,” he greeted, immediately turning back to his work.

  “Adamantine Coat,” Tyson corrected.

  “Whatever-the-Fuck. We agreed that you could name shit to help it sell, not that I’d have to say it.”

  “Adamantine as in Adamantium, like Wolverine’s claws; I would think you would be fine with a comic reference at least.” Tyson crouched forward, shuffling his way towards the worktable. He noticed a pile of crushed Dr. Pepper cans on the floor. “I thought you were leaving it until you talked with Plutarch today?”