Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

“Excuse me?” Dorian replied, startled.

“The gears. Would you pick up those gears for me? I can do it myself, but you would save me the effort of having to dismount this stool and climb back up looking like a toddler trying to get to a cookie jar.”

Dorian hurried over, gathered up the scattered gears, and set them back on the workbench. He turned to face the creature. Its face was that of a corgi, but its snout transitioned into a beak by its end. Its lower jaw remained canine. It had very human eyes.

“Thank you,” it said. It pulled the headphones from its head and let them fall about his neck. It continued to tinker as it spoke. “I’m Griffin, but I’m not a gryphon. I stress that because people get a bit confused by it. Griffin in name only. Got it?”

“Uh, sure?”

“You see, a gryphon is a mix of lion and eagle whereas I am a mix of human, crow, and corgi. A glorious trifecta of man and beast. One of a kind!” Griffin announced proudly. He looked down at Dorian’s multi-hand. “I see you’re an amalgamation as well!”

“Oh, this.” Dorian raised his double appendage. “It’s a temporary condition. I’m holding it for a friend. It’s a little gift from Mr. Bowoo, a giant magical koi fish.”

Dorian waited for a response and got nothing in return. Griffin sensed his disappointment.

“You don’t expect a Mancorcrow to be surprised by that, do you?”

“What’s a mancorcrow?” Dorian responded.

“Me. I’m a mancorcrow. A man, corgi, and crow mixture. I came up with that myself! Pretty good, huh?”

“It doesn’t exactly slip through one’s lips.”

“Can you do better?” Griffin snipped.

“Well, right off the top of my head cromangi comes to mind.”

“Cromangi. Hmmm, I’m stealing that!” Griffin replied. “Cromangi!”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, let’s see. What should we call you? Mr. Three Hands? Triad? Trio? Tres?” Griffin suggested.

“Dorian.”

“Why Dorian?”

“That’s my name.”

“Okay, Dorian, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I’m here looking for my friend. Her name is Cadence. She was brought here by . . .”

“Charon,” Griffin interrupted knowingly.

“You know Charlie? “

“He’s good at his job, but a real, um. . .”

“Dick,” Dorian suggested.

“To put it kindly,” Griffin chuckled. “How did you get tangled up with that guy?”

“Cadence and I were forced into helping with a ritual to bring this one-hit-wonder, DeLeon, back to the present day and it got royally screwed up. There was to be a swap. DeLeon gets pulled from whatever time he is stuck in and he gets replaced by a proxy. Cadence was taken as the proxy.”

“DeLeon? Then that must mean that this is the breastplate!” Griffin reached out and tapped the armor with his wrench.

“How do you know about the breastplate?” Dorian asked.

Griffin raised his arm revealing the bangle about his wrist.

“A female acquaintance was trying to find the breastplate using this as a tracking device. Unfortunately, I came in contact with it at the exact same time as my corgi and a stupid freakin’ crow. All three of us melded together as we shot to the point in time where the armor was located. I think it was around the year fifteen hundred. I’ve been yanked around through time ever since.”

“How long has that been going on?” Dorian asked.

“I wish I knew. I found myself sucked back through time, covered in fur and sporting wings. Once I came to terms with the new me, I looked for a spot to roost. Just as I started putting together some kind of life, WHOOSH, I’m back in the two-thousands in this very spot with all my stuff covered in dust and draped in cobwebs. I scrounged up a few more items, pulled together the beginnings of this workshop, and then, BAM, back to the old nest. It happens over and over again. I know how to make it stop, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I remove the bracelet.”

“At least you know where the armor is right now,” Dorian stated. “That gives you a couple of choices. If you like it here, you can remove the bracelet and stay. Either that or keep wearing it and remain linked to the breastplate and go wherever it goes. It’s up to you.”

“That’s kind of always been my option. Got any better ones?”

“You can, uh, help me find Cadence, maybe?” Dorian’s voice squeaked upward as he answered.

“What makes you think that I would be willing to help you on your rescue mission?” Griffin cocked his head. He refocused his attention on his workbench.

“Because every story I have ever read that involves a reluctant hero has him partnering with someone he meets along the way. They join forces and help to resolve both of their predicaments. Everyone lives happily ever after.”

“Really?” Griffin chuckled. “And what about the stories where the helpful stranger ends up sacrificing himself to save the hero?”

“This isn’t one of those stories, I promise.”

Griffin tightened the final bolt on the pile of metal pieces strewn across the bench. “My answer will depend heavily on what happens with these.”

Griffin placed his palms onto the benchtop and repositioned himself at the top of the contraption. He scooched his corgi bottom into a harness resembling a bear trap and inserted his paws into sockets at the top of articulated hydraulic columns. He swung his new legs around so that he was seated at the edge of the bench. He looked to Dorian.

“Lend me your shoulder.”

Dorian stood beside Griffin to provide some support. Griffin slowly slid towards the floor. He pushed away from the edge and transferred his weight to the prosthetics.

“So far, so good,” he said. He shifted his weight from side to side and swiveled his hips. “Okay, here goes nothing!”

Griffin let go of Dorian’s shoulder and took a tentative step forward and then another. He traveled slowly across the room looking like a drunk marionette. He placed his hand on the back of the sofa and turned to face Dorian.

“Not too shabby!” Dorian applauded.

Griffin reached down and tightened the knobs near his knees. He returned to Dorian looking a lot less puppet-like, but still a bit tipsy.

“Gotta tell ya, it feels good to get the boys off the pavement!” Griffin laughed.

Dorian instinctively looked down and was relieved to not see corgi bits. The harness on the prosthetics buffered that sensitive region with high-impact, foam-lined plastic plates. Griffin picked up a wrench and tapped at them vigorously.

“Better to test it now than in the field.” Griffin offered the wrench to Dorian. “Give ’em a whack.”

“Dorian waived off the gesture. “No, I’m good, but thanks.”

Griffin walked somewhat steadily to a series of coat hooks on the wall and removed a pair of leather chaps.

“I made these to protect the mechanisms.”

He pulled them on and tightened them around his waist using a series of metal buckles and straps. He spun slowly, modeling them for Dorian. The seat was still open exposing his backside.

“How do they look? Pretty badass, huh?”

“Sure. You do know your tail is hanging out, right?”

Griffin chuckled, “Dude, no one can resist a corgi butt.”