"Oh," I say. "Yes. We've been looking for you. How have you been?"
"Dead," says the giant.
If I'd known someone important was stabbing my ankle, I probably wouldn't have squashed her. Probably.
"Yes," I say. "Sorry about that."
She rumbles laughter at me. Her breath stinks like something died in her mouth. Well, maybe that's just how the breath of a frog's resurrected wife smells. Of course she's a freak. What sort of woman marries a frog?
"Why are you looking for me, fool?" the giant asks.
"You can show me how to get home."
Which sounds better than "you can wake me up," which I'm pretty sure is all I need to do but somehow the dream just hasn't got that far. So maybe I need to do this stupid quest thing until the dream ends and I wake up naturally. With all that puking and hangover shit I started the dream with. Why do I want to wake up again?
"Surely you just leave the way you came?" the giant asks.
I blink. If it were that easy, does she really think I'd be crawling through swamps looking for someone to tell me how to do it?
"Or maybe you're expecting me to say you need to click your heels together and chant 'There's no place like 'ome?'"
This seems like a trap.
"Do I?" I ask cautiously.
"No," the giant snaps. "Of course you bloody don't."
"Your husband said something about going somewhere in particular," I say.
Just like that abomination of a guide to run off and leave me when I need it to remember something.
"What particular somewhere would that be?" the giant asks.
I need to get further away from her. I can't cope with her breath. I shuffle backwards on all fours. Unfortunately, she follows me like a stray dog hoping to be adopted.
"I'm not sure," I say. Then a mental image flickers briefly in my mind and I ask, hopefully, "Stonehenge?"
"What's stone 'enge when it's at 'ome?" the giant asks.
Guess I remembered wrong. "A stone circle."
"Stone circle, eh?" says the giant and she rubs her chin. I wonder if the thickening hairs there itch. "I know of one or two of them but no 'stone 'enge'."
"Maybe your husband meant one of those, then," I say.
"Aye. Mebbe."
She really isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Was she this slow before she died or is this just a side effect of being a zombie?
"I suppose you'll be wanting me to take you to them?" the giant asks.
"Yes," I say in as calm a voice as possible when all I want to do is yell at her for her idiocy. "That would be very kind of you."
"Could be I just want you gone from my world," says the giant.
It would be faster to try squashing me, then. Or just keep breathing on me until I die from lack of clean air.
"What did you do with your elf?" the giant asks. "You didn't kill them, did you?"
"Elf?" I ask.
I have no idea what she's talking about.