The next day Master Jabber was sitting at Fokso’s formal dinner table with Fokso, Eridian, Charlesly Landcaster, his golem, and Rospo and Shana Seccant. Eridian was presiding at the head of the table, dressed in a cream-colored dinner gown, a white ruffled shawl draped about her neck. Behind her, in full place of glory, sat the bust Jabber had given her, its enormous head staring down at the dinner table, almost seeming to scowl at all the plebeians before her. The likeness between the real woman and her sculpture was uncanny.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Eridian said. Everyone raised their wine glasses. “To Rospo and Shana! Welcome to the Red Coast! It’s a great joy that we finally succeeded in convincing you to move out here.”

  The dinner guests toasted Rospo and Shana, smiling and saying “Hear! Hear!” All around they clinked their glasses together and took a sip. Jabber, however, continued to fork broccoli into his mouth, a firm frown on his face. He didn’t even look up during the toast.

  “Well, thank you, Eridian,” Rospo said. “Thank you for the warm welcome and inviting us to your beautiful home. Every room, it’s so well decorated . . . such taste!”

  “We’re simply overjoyed to have you here,” Eridian replied.

  “And that, um . . .” Rospo pointed toward the huge bust towering behind Eridian. “That sculpture of you, it’s quite an addition to this dining room.”

  “Isn’t it?” Eridian declared happily. “I’m rather taken by it. You’ll never guess who gave it to me.”

  “Oh do tell,” Shana inquired politely.

  “Impossible for you to guess. When I tell you, all of you will be gobsmacked.”

  “Try us,” said Charlesly.

  “That kindest of souls, the man with a most generous and giving spirit, our very own Master Jabber!” Eridian gestured towards the magician. “He had it specially commissioned for me!”

  Jabber kept chewing his vegetables and staring down at the plate, his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

  “Oh indeed?” Rospo replied.

  “Wow,” said Charlesly. “You’re right, I never would have guessed.”

  “I told you so,” Eridian exclaimed. “He may look like he has a heart of stone, but on the inside, Jabber’s just an old balding softy.”

  Jabber snorted derisively, chewing his roast cabbage with ungenial determination.

  “How do you find a sculptor to create something like that?” Shana asked Jabber.

  Jabber shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “You ask around, it’s not difficult.”

  “Well, you know what the best part about it is?” Shana continued. “Its–well, its size. I love the amount of space it takes up in the room.”

  “Oh indeed!” Eridian agreed as she sipped her wine. “If it had been smaller it would have made me look like some sort of gremlin. And if he had made it even bigger, well . . .” Eridian gave a laugh. “That would have felt rather ostentatious, even for me.”

  “It’s even more than that,” Charlesly pontificated drily, swirling his fork in the air as he tried to find the right words. “The expression, it’s glorious, so full of power, so above the common foibles of mortal life, almost angelic even . . . you know, it perfectly captures that expression of–dare I say, imperious–joy I’ve seen you have on occasion as you stare down on us mere mortals.”

  Fokso kept a laugh to himself as he shook his head at his friend’s wit and took a bite from his plate.

  “Such poetry!” Eridian exclaimed. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Thank you Charlesly!”

  The thin magician stood from his seat and gave Eridian a short formal bow.

  Fokso almost choked on the sip he was taking from his wine.

  Shana was still looking up at the huge bust of Eridian. “So how did he make it? Did you need to send him a painting first? What painting was it?”

  “Yes,” Jabber replied, again not looking towards Shana, keeping his eyes angrily down on his plate as he placed a carrot in his mouth.

  “And how long did it take to make? I mean, how long ago did you commission it so it would be ready in time?”

  “How should I know?” Jabber raised his voice in irritation. “I have no idea what his process is. It only took a few months if that’s fine by you. Merely a few months.” He leaned back in his chair, finally, glaring over at Shana and then around the table.

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  The golem shook his head in disapprobation and kept dishing food onto his plate.

  Charlesly looked down the table at Jabber. “What in God’s name is wrong with you tonight my dear Jabber?”

  Jabber glared at Charlesly, dropped his fork on his plate, chewed his bite, and then swallowed. “A week!” he said, looking around the table. “An entire week has passed and not a single one of you reached out to see if I had received my results back from Dr. Turnbull yet, or even to see if I was dead or alive!”

  All around the table people shook their heads and avoided his gaze in embarrassment. Rospo let out a heavy sigh and Fokso groaned.

  “And in case any of you even cared,” Jabber continued angrily, “Dr. Turnbull did indeed send the results and said I had nothing to worry about. So, no, Master Landcaster, nothing is wrong with me, praise Our Missing Lord!”

  Rospo set his wine glass down, drops of spittle spraying from his lips as he sputtered, “Our little Jessa found a baby gremlin in her room, and I’ve been trying to teach her how to train it, you know because it’s a great hobby of mine and I was excited she was excited about it, and it’s been taking all my time . . .”

  “He’s been so devoted to Jessa, morning and night working with her, the days just got away from us,” added Shana in support of her husband.

  “And, as for me,” Charlesly Landcaster interjected, “I told my familiar, you know, to remind me to reach out to you, but the poor bastard’s wife was in heat this week and they were fornicating up a storm, screeching and hollering in their little nest, shaking the tree like the Rapture had come, but that’s no excuse, I’m going to tell him to take his pigmy monkey headed ass right back down to the nether regions where it belongs.” Landcaster thumped the table for emphasis.

  “My apologies Jabber,” said the golem. “I’ve been on a bender all week. I just plain forgot. I’m not even sure what day it is right now.”

  “Saturday,” Charlesly said.

  The golem saluted him with his wine glass.

  Jabber looked at Fokso, who shrugged. “You know exactly why I didn’t reach out to you,” his friend said. “I haven’t exactly been myself these past few days, through no fault of my own I might add.” Fokso jabbed his fork in the air towards Jabber as he made this last point.

  “You know what?” Jabber yelled, throwing his napkin on the table as he stood. “None of you are truly my friends. I see that now!”

  “But I don’t understand why you’re so upset?” Rospo protested. “Didn’t your doctor give you a clean bill of health?”

  “You didn’t know that!” Jabber growled. “But now that it’s clear to me you’re all a bunch of fair weather chums, I’m not staying a moment longer.” With that he started to head towards the doorway. All at once he turned and shouted with raised hands. “And you can all go rot in hell, each and every one of you!” In that instant, a bolt of blue lightning shot from the magician’s finger tips towards the far wall, above the head of Eridian, to blast the bust off its pedestal. It fell with a massive thud and a crack. The sharp scent of ozone filled the room.

  “Holy missing shit!” the golem called out, as Charlesly exclaimed, “Oh my God!”

  Eridian bent down at the statue in shock, caressing it and then picking up its broken nose. She glared at Jabber before shouting at the top of her lungs, “You ass! You obliterated my statue!”

  Fokso was trying his best to keep a smile of satisfaction–nay, joy–from showing too openly on his face. He therefore started in surprise when Eridian turned to him and yelled, “Fokso?!”

  Jabber’s eyes were wide in shock. He hadn’t had an unbridled burst of magic like that since he was a young magician, unable to control his magical urges. He could have killed someone, and now Eridian’s statue was ruined.

  Fokso immediately changed his half-grin into a forced glare, his eyebrows furrowing in the perfect picture of righteous indignation. “You son of bitch. You dickless little demon-spawned bastard. How dare you throw lightning at my wife? Who the hell do you think you are, you limp piece of hellhound turd?” Everyone around the table watched the scene with a mixture of open eyed shock, fascination, and horror. Fokso continued. “That bust was the piece de resistance of this house, the crowning jewel of all our possessions.” At this Eridian nodded emphatically, pride shining in her eyes as she watched her husband dress Jabber down.

  “I’m truly sorry,” Jabber growled, half in anger, half in shame at what he had done. “But I swear to you I will fix it.”

  “You’ll fix it?!” Fokso snarled. “I don’t want to see that bust again until every single crack, every single chip is placed perfectly back together. Do you hear me?! Don’t bring it back to this house until it’s absolutely perfect! Flawless!”

  “Don’t you worry! You won’t see it again until I fix it!” Jabber snapped back.

  At this, Rospo jumped in. “Glory! What providence! Do you know who Shana and I just met?” Shana tapped on Rospo’s shoulder in excited agreement. “A wonderful artificer. He just joined the guild out here. I can take the bust to him! I know he can fix it!”

  Jabber turned to Rospo in anger. “What are you doing? I just said I would fix it! I broke it and I’ll fix it!”

  “No, Shana and I would love to help!” Rospo turned to Eridian. “Don’t you worry, we’ll take it and get it mended perfectly!”

  “Just stop Rospo!” Jabber growled, pointing a glowing finger at him. “Shut the hell up! I’m fixing it! It’s settled!”

  Rospo raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine, just wanted to help.”

  Jabber straightened his robes and then looked around the room. “If you ask my opinion, this was a happy accident, a subtle gift, you might say, from our Missing God above.”

  “Indeed?!” Fokso said, giving a loud snort. “Please, do explain my dear Jabber, how is this a ‘happy accident’?”

  “Well, in all honesty, I was never really pleased with this sculpture.” Jabber pointed to the bust on the floor. “It failed to capture the fiery energy in Eridian’s eyes, the brilliance of her supple brow, nor indeed the expression of open-hearted love that she holds for all the world.”

  Eridian smiled despite herself, touching her hair in a show of embarrassment at the compliments Jabber had thrown towards her.

  Fokso’s grin was even larger than Eridian’s as he saw where Jabber was leading with this. “The fiery love in her eyes! Yes! You’re correct! Now I understand what this bust of my beautiful wife was missing. It’s completely soulless compared to the real beauty of the woman sitting next to me.” He lifted Eridian’s hand and gave it a kiss, and then, looking back at Jabber, added. “A happy accident indeed!”

  “Oh!” Eridian eyes were now glistening. “Oh, my heart! Your words have touched my soul. Thank you!” She gestured to Jabber to return to the table. “Please sit. Let’s forget this whole affair and eat!”

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