{. . .}
Sorry for not getting this up earlier. I've been trying to get my WoW character up to ilvl 320 so I could do the Warfront, so I've literally been doing almost nothing else all week and kept forgetting.
Okay, that does it -- in the next adventure you run, you've GOT to weave World of WarCraft into it . . . .
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Okay, that does it -- in the next adventure you run, you've GOT to weave World of WarCraft into it . . . .{. . .}
Sorry for not getting this up earlier. I've been trying to get my WoW character up to ilvl 320 so I could do the Warfront, so I've literally been doing almost nothing else all week and kept forgetting.
I actually have plans for Kyle to make a reference to it when next he shows up. To let you know which faction he roots for. :P
If you get bored and want more to read, I have an entire archive of old WoW fanfiction. Disclaimer: IT'S TERRIBLE. Mostly.
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“Yes. I think so.”
“I’m going to need some time to think.”
I nodded. “No rush. It’s your decision. But if there’s a chance that you’ll want to do this soon, we should take a corpse with us while we have the chance.”
Gregor and Burin exchanged a glance. “A corpse?” Gregor asked.
“It’s part of the process for reviving Terry’s daughter,” I said.
“Ah. Do you prefer one with less damage?”
“It would make things easier. A man’s body, if you can find it.”
“I think I saw one,” Burin noted. “Over here.”
After Burin and Gregor selected a workable corpse, we headed back to the hut. I gave the hut directions before heading in, trusting it to go where we wanted, and then went in to get some rest. We hadn’t been fighting long, but it had been very draining.
I laid down with Greta and we chatted for a bit. “There’s something I was hoping for your help with,” I said to her.
“Of course, love,” she said. “What do you need?”
“We might be reviving our companion’s teenage daughter. If we do, we’d like to leave her here where it’s safe while we continue our mission to free Baba Yaga. Will you keep an eye on her?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “It’s not like I can do anything else for the moment. I will watch her for you.”
“Thanks, babe,” I said, kissing my wife – that’s still weird to say – more than a little before we fell asleep, my aching muscles taking comfort in the warmth of her skin against my own.
I was awoken hours later by the prodding of a broom handle. Zorka was standing a few feet away, her eyes wild. “You have to stop it.”
“Stop what?” I asked, sleepily.
“The child will not stop. It is making a mess! There is dust everywhere!”
What? Was Terry doing something? “Give me a minute to get dressed,” I said.
I got dressed and went into the common room. The corpse we’d picked up was lying on the table, a sheet over it. Terry had set up multiple chalk boards all over the walls, and was in a fugue state, locked in calculation. I’d seen Daddy do that several times, when he was having what he calls a “brain blast”, but it was strange coming from someone else. Also, there was a lot more mumbling and a crazier look in his eyes than I’d ever seen from my father.
Before interrupting, I tried reading Terry’s notes. They were definitely not ordered and neat. Here and there were things like pros versus cons statements, diagrams and what appeared to be random scribbles. Several of the diagrams seemed to be possible ways Terry could die horribly in our quest. They were quite graphic, in a stick figure sort of way.
Zorka looked at Terry, then at me, giving me a gesture as if to say, “Well, what are you going to do about this?”
I sighed. “I’m gonna go wake up Gregor and Burin first,” I said to the fey. I needed coffee. Or tiramisu. It was too early for this.
I returned a few minutes later, the others in tow. I watched as Gregor and Burin took in the scene like I had, the only difference in the scene being Zorka poking Terry over and over with the broom. Gregor pulled out his flask and took a drink, then passed it to Burin.
Finally, Terry snapped at Zorka, knocking the broom away. “If you’re not part of the solution, get out of my way.”
Gregor walked over to the corpse and pulled back the sheet. Terry had made a number of marks with chalk, trying to outline changes the body would need to be more like what he wanted. “Your friend looks… not good,” Gregor noted.
“It’s fine,” Terry said. “Lyriana’s gonna kill me and then stuff my soul in that body so we can resurrect Emily in her body.” He turned to me. “I marked the changes it’ll need.”
“I can see that,” I said. “But I’ve already got the pictures I took before of the illusion of your normal self, so I was just gonna use those.”
“Oh. I guess I wasted a bit of chalk then.”
“So,” Gregor said, looking at the drawings of Terry dying over and over. “Lyriana’s gonna kill you? We need to get this obsession you have with killing yourself under control. We can help you.”
Terry, annoyed, waved him off. Then he turned back around. “Imagine, for a moment, that you had one opportunity to get what you wanted. To kill Rasputin. But you only get one shot. You have to do it right, or he gets away forever. You lose everything that matters, forever. That’s what I’m trying to decide here. Is this the right time to take the shot?”
Burin, completely missing the point, spoke up. “You know, if you’re worried about Typhon Lee, we probably could have killed him before, when we had the help of the old man.”
Terry looked at me, annoyance in his eyes. “Please explain it to him?”
I nodded. “Okay, so what we’re talking about is resurrecting Emily. We’ve gathered what we need. We just have to decide if the time is right. When we’re certain, then I’ll cast a spell to draw out Terry’s soul, then another to sever the bond between his soul and Emily’s body, forcing it into a new body.”
“This one?” Burin asked, pointing at the corpse.
“Right. At that point, while Terry’s technically dead, you’ll probably die for a moment as well. That’s why Gregor will have the nanite gun handy. If he uses its more powerful function on you after I’ve shunted the soul into its new body, it should bring you back up. If it doesn’t, then Gregor, hit Terry’s new body with nanites as well. Meanwhile, I’ll use the scroll Terry procured to revive Emily.”
Understanding shone in Burin’s eyes. “I see! Yes! That could work!” The dwarf erased some of the writing on the chalkboard and began writing his own diagrams. “See, the bonding between us is highly likely to be tied to our souls by the time anomaly, illustrated here. So, with your soul safely in another body, we could leave your daughter safely in the hut while we finish our mission.”
I had assumed that would be the case, but I hadn’t bothered doing the math. I quickly scanned his work, and it made intuitive sense. Magic like this was usually tied to the soul, after all.
“Good,” Terry said. “Then let’s do this.”
“It will be dangerous,” Gregor cautioned. “You could die.”
“And if I do, I know you guys will take care of Emily. I trust you.” Terry blinked. “I can’t believe I just said that. But I mean it. I trust you to take care of my daughter.”
“Burin could die too,” I pointed out.
Burin shrugged. “The demon’s gone. There’s no real risk of him getting out. I certainly don’t mind helping.”
Terry put his hand on Burin’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, dwarf.”
“I’m not a man,” Burin protested as Terry began heading towards his room to change. Terry just answered him with a laugh as he disappeared into his room.
I felt a strong arm around my midsection and a comforting warmth on my back. “Are they always like this?” Greta whispered in my ear.
“Yeah. Pretty much,” I answered.
“Anyone else hungry?” Gregor asked.
Greta eyed the corpse on the table. “I want the liver.”
I kissed Greta. “Sorry, babe, but we’re not eating that. It’s gonna be Terry’s new body.” I cracked my knuckles. “Speaking of which, it’s time for me to get to work. Someone hold my phone up for me to use as a reference while I work?”
I set to work, carefully and dutifully sculpting the corpse with magic to look as close to Terry’s natural body as I could. Of course, I didn’t have any nude images of Terry to work with, so he would be missing things like scars or tattoos hidden by clothes in the illusion. After that, I had Burin and Gregor dress the corpse in the fresh set of clothes Terry had laid out next to it.
By the time we were done, Terry had finished as well. He came back out dressed in the cute winter dress, leggings and boots that we had picked out for Emily. In his hands, he carried all of his magical gear, which he began putting on the corpse.
As he worked, Terry turned to me and Burin. “How much will Emily remember?”
“I’m not sure,” Burin said.
“Not sure either,” I said. Daddy had theories on how much of the memory is a function of the brain and how much is held on the soul, but it was kind of a dry and boring topic, so I had never learned much of it. I think Godmother once mentioned that Daddy’s frame of reference for his theory was skewed for some reason. Again, it doesn’t really interest me, so I don’t remember much of it. “I think maybe she’ll have some memories from your time in her body, but I don’t know how clear they’ll be.”
Terry nodded. “We’ll know in a minute, I guess.” He laid down on the table next to the corpse. “If this doesn’t work… if I die… thanks for everything. It was nice having friends for once.”
“It’ll be fine. The calculations are solid,” Burin said as he laid down on the floor.
“Take the compliment, dwarf,” Terry said, a playful annoyance in his voice.
“Oh. Okay.”
“We’ll see both of you on the other side,” Gregor said, making sure the nanite gun was completely charged. He nodded at me.
I laid out everything I would need, sat down and took a deep breath. “Show time,” I said. I then began my first spell.
My soul shot out of my body into the gem before me, then I shot my soul out from the gem and took over Emily’s body, pushing Terry’s soul into the gem. Then, in Emily’s body, I quickly grabbed the bag of powdered diamond next to my hand and used my pool of inner power to make a wish, shunting Terry’s soul into the corpse.
Gregor sprang into action and immediately injected both Terry’s new body and Burin with nanites as I shifted my soul back into my own body. I then unrolled the magic scroll and began reading. I almost stumbled on one of the words, but I managed to get it out just close enough. The scroll vanished in a puff of smoke, and the energy of the spell poured into Emily’s body.
Terry awoke first. Immediately, he began feeling his own body, checking to make sure everything was there. He then touched his face. “I’m not dead?” he asked, sitting up.
Burin, who had already gotten to his feet, smiled at him. “Told you it would work.”
Terry looked with disbelief at Emily, who was definitely breathing. “Is she…?” he asked me.
I nodded. “As far as I know.”
“I… thank you.” He reached out and gingerly touched his daughter’s shoulder, looking like he was terrified that she would collapse into dust at the merest touch.
Emily stirred, then suddenly sat bolt upright, screamed for her mother, and fell off of the table. She then stood and tried to flee, panicked, straight towards the door to the hut proper. Gregor reacted immediately and teleported in front of her, grabbing the girl. She lashed out, flailing wildly at him, but he dodged easily.
“Good! You should always be ready to fight!” Gregor said. “But you must learn to punch better!” Realizing that there was no escape from the man holding her, Emily began to sob. “Oh, don’t cry. I will show you. You will be much better at punching in no time.”
Emily went limp, defeated. “Daddy…” she blubbered.
Burin walked over, bent down to the eye level of the half kneeling girl. “He’s right over there,” the dwarf said, his voice calm and gentle, like one used to speaking to children. He pointed over at Terry, who sat on the table, frozen in disbelief.
Emily froze at the words, then turned slowly as Gregor loosened his grip, her eyes growing wide as she beheld her father for the first time after years of separation.
Good to see another episode.
That was highly risky . . . but fortunately it worked. So far . . . .
Good to see another episode.
That was highly risky . . . but fortunately it worked. So far . . . .
I barely made the UMD. I can't remember if failing destroys the scroll or not, but if so, that would have been a lot of money down the toilet. :P
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I’m not sure why, but Mommy always said that if I ever had to fight a man, especially one bigger than me, I should hit him in the crotch. Well, it worked. “Daddy” crumpled to the floor like a sack of turnips. “This isn’t real,” I said. “Last time there were ponies. And that was nice, until you tied me to five of them and had them pull me apart. But I don’t believe you this time. You can’t fool me. Just get the torture over with.”
The dwarf in the group looked surprised. Boris, I think his name was. How did I know that? No matter. “That’s not very healthy thinking, young lady. No one’s going to torture anyone, little girl.”
I rolled my eyes. “No silly voices,” I said. “I don’t like it when you do silly voices.”
“What silly voice?” Burin asked. I thought I heard the man with the beard chuckle at the question.
I rolled my eyes again. “Look, if you’re not going to get it on with, I’m going into the other room. Come bother me when you’re ready to stop playing these stupid games.”
As I went to the door furthest from me, I heard the bearded man speak up. “Yes, that is Terry’s child, alright,” he said with a laugh. We’d see who was laughing when I shaved that stupid beard off of his dumb demon face.
They were so stupid they didn’t notice me grabbing a weapon as I entered the bedroom. So, weapon in hand, I waited in the next room, just by the door, where I listened, because I knew one of them would say something that would reveal the truth.
I heard “Daddy” groan. It sounded like they were helping him up to a chair. “Are you okay?” the bearded man asked.
“”Good news,” he replied with a wheeze. “The body is complete.”
“Good to hear,” one of the women asked. “But more importantly, are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” There was pain in “Daddy’s” voice. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t solve this problem by shooting it or feeding it.”
“I’ll talk with her,” the woman said.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I don’t know why, but I found myself terrified at the thought of facing her. It was almost like facing a giant spider or a poisonous snake. As pretty as she was, she was dangerous. That much was certain, even if I didn’t know why I thought that.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I dove under the bed, weapon in hand. A few moments later, I heard the door creak open and saw her walk in. For a moment, I was curious how she could even walk in those shoes. The heel had to be six inches long, but I quickly recovered my wits.
“Go away,” I said. “I have a broom.”
“What?” the woman asked, sounding totally disinterested. “Did you say something?” She had to be lying. Didn’t she? “I’m just here,” she continued, “because this is my bedroom and I wanted a little privacy to fondly my beautiful wife for a few minutes before I have to get going.”
She was definitely lying. “I’m not scared of you. And you’re not my mom.”
“You know,” she said, a twinkle of laughter in her voice, “you should really be careful under there. That’s the den of a vicious monster.”
“Don’t think I’m so stupid that I…” but I didn’t finish the sentence, because I felt something brush up against my leg. So I darted out from under the bed and ran to the nearest corner of the room, holding my broom out defensively against the monster and the woman, who was laughing at me. Her laugh was clear, like a bell. Much different than the laughs the demons had made before.
But that was just another part of their trick.
“What do you want?” I asked. “You guys usually get bored and start torturing me by now.”
“Are you sure you fixed her?” came the voice of the bearded man standing in the doorway. “She’s acting just like he did when we first met him.”
The woman looked over at him. “On my home world, we have a saying about apples and trees that I suspect applies here.”
The word “apples” reminded me just how long it had been since I had eaten. The demons hadn’t really fed me, and when they did, it always turned to something gross to make me throw up. But I was so hungry that I was willing to risk it if they offered me food. I just wasn’t sure how to ask for something.
I didn’t have to ask. My stomach made a noise on its own. The woman laughed. “Greta, dear, our guest seems to be hungry. Grab her something to eat? Something sweet if we have it.”
A few moments later, the big scary woman with only one arm and way too many teeth came in, holding a plate with some kind of bread on it. The bread was covered in white powder and sliced berries. “Will this do?” she asked.
“Blini?” the woman asked. “Yes, I think that will do nicely.” She took the plate and took a bite of the meal. “See?” she said after swallowing her bite. “It’s safe to eat, if you want some.” She held out the plate to me.
My hunger got the best of my caution and I snatched the plate from her. I sniffed at the food, then took a bite. It was super sweet and amazingly delicious. The demons had never fed me something like this before.
“It seems she likes it,” the bearded man – Gregor, I think his name was? – said.
“So it would seem,” the younger woman said. “But it would be rude not to ask. What do you think, Emily?”
“I…” I wasn’t sure what to say. If I said I liked it, they would take it away. That’s how they did things. “It’s missing something. Something bitter, I think?” I said.
Gregor laughed. “I know just the thing. I will be right back.”
He returned a couple minutes later holding a mug. Steam was rising from the top. He set it on the ground near me and stepped back, allowing me to grab it with no one close by. I did so and looked at it. The liquid was dark, almost black, and it smelled terrible. Yet, at the same time, something was telling me to taste it. So I gave it a sip.
“What do you think?” the woman repeated.
“It’s… disgusting,” I said. But for some reason, I drank more. First a sip, then a gulp. “I don’t know why I can’t stop drinking it,” I admitted. As I drank it, I felt better. Much better, and more awake.
“I’ll have to discuss caffeine addiction with your father,” the woman said.
Gregor left, but the two women stood there quietly while I ate and drank. After several minutes, I spoke up again. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway? Usually you pretend to be my mother or father. Or Toby. Or sometimes, even the man who… who…” I couldn’t talk about him anymore.
“The man who killed you?” the woman asked. I nodded. “Typhon Lee,” she said. Her voice was angry as she said it. And the other woman, Greta, made a sound like a wolf growling at the sound of the words.
Suddenly, my head began to hurt a little. I saw flashes, images of things that had happened, or at least, things they wanted me to think had happened. But even knowing they weren’t real, I couldn’t help myself. I began to cry. “Bekkin…” was all I said.
“That confirms it,” the woman said. “You do have some of his memories, after all.” Who did she mean? “Tell me, since you’re in a place to have a look inside his head. Is there any rational explanation for why he shot that tree and offered it cake?”
I tried to think, but my mind only showed flashes and images. But one image was very clear. I saw a big chocolate cake covered in frosting. “You have cake!” I accused. “And you brought me this instead?!”
“That’s basically cake,” the woman said. She sounded a bit offended. “And it’s covered in fruit and powdered sugar.”
“But there’s no frosting,” I said. “Which means this really is Hell.” I then proceeded to pout. The woman just let me, saying nothing for several minutes. “So, are you going to kill me, or what?” I asked, finally.
The woman shrugged. “I wasn’t particularly planning on it. But I’m pretty sure you’re grounded for punching your dad in the dick.”
“That’s not Daddy,” I said. She looked dubious. “Look, this is how it works. I wake up. ‘Daddy’ is there. He tells me I’m safe, but then he turns into a monster and he hurts me until I give up. Then he kills me. And then I wake up again and he’s there to tell me I’m safe. It’s a loop de loop. And I’m tired of doing it.”
She looked concerned. “So Typhon really did condemn you to the Abyss?”
“You mean here? Isn’t this hell?”
The dwarf walked into the room. “Well, actually,” Boris said, “there’s a difference between Hell and the Abyss. Hell is where devils live, and is a place of extreme order. If you were there, they’d break you so they could make you into one of them, a perfect soldier or servant for their grand army. In the Abyss, they’re a lot less organized. Their base urges define them. They’d break you over and over just because it amuses them. And then, of course, there’s Abaddon, home of the daemons. They’d just destroy your soul because they hate everything.”
Satisfied he’d explained everything, the dwarf nodded and left. The woman was shaking her head. “Sorry. He means well,” she apologized.
“He seems nice,” I said. Then I saw an image and couldn’t stop laughing. “He blew up. But he was okay. Wait, what does blorbleglorp mean?”
“No idea. I don’t speak the language of water elementals. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think it has something to do with torches.”
The woman snorted. “Yeah, that would fit.”
Curiosity seized me. Carefully, I peered under the bed. “Come out, mister demon. I’m ready for whatever game you’re playing.” A small creature crawled out from under the bed. It was so cute! “KITTY!” I said, forgetting myself as I snatched up the cat and hugged it tightly to my chest.
“Do you know her name?” the woman asked me patiently.
I thought for a moment. “Nova? No, that’s not right.” I squeezed the cat. “Usually when you squeeze toys like this, they say something.”
“Think harder. You know the answer.”
I tried to focus on the cat. “She… can turn into stuff?” Then it came to me. I held up the cat, looking it straight in the face. “Blurblegrapble!” I said.
The cat blinked in surprise and looked at the woman. “It’s the wrong language, but it’s the right word,” she said.
I KNEW IT. “You CAN talk!” I said, hugging the cat to me. I then held her out again. “Hi. I’m Emily,” I said.
“Hello, Emily,” the cat responded. “You may call me Nebula.”
“Nice to meet you, Nebula,” I answered. Mom always told me it was important to return politeness when someone showed it to you. “I’m having trouble remembering who the lady over there is. Can you help me?”
“Her name is Lyriana,” Nebula answered. “She is my human. I keep an eye on her because she is always getting into trouble.” The cat seemed to be teasing the woman, but I could tell that the cat loved her.
“Life’s no fun if you don’t get into a little trouble,” Lyriana answered, pouting. I couldn’t help but laugh a little at the childish expression she made while doing it.
I sighed. “Hello, Lyriana,” I said. “Part of me thinks that you’re okay, but that part of me has lied to me before.” I looked her in the eyes. There was a tear in one of hers. “You’re very pretty,” I said, not sure why. “I want to grow up to be pretty like my mom, but I’m just me.”
The woman smiled at me. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much, Emily. I suspect that you’re going to grow up to be very pretty. In fact, maybe Greta can teach you how to be better at fighting with that broom. You’re going to need it to keep the boys away.” She laughed. “Not too far away, of course. Letting them get a little close is half the fun.”
She was talking about grown up stuff. But she seemed to mean it. “I miss my mom,” I said.
“I know how that feels, kiddo. I miss my mom, too.”
“Where is your mom?”
“On another world, fighting to try to protect my people from monsters from the sky. Would you like to see what she looks like?”
I considered it. “Yes, please.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object. With a quick flick of her wrist, it opened up, revealing some kind of mirror or something. An image flashed through my mind. “I’ve seen one of those before. But there were a lot of naked people in the mirror.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting,” was all she said. She touched the mirror and a picture of a beautiful woman in shining armor appeared. The knight lady was holding a really big sword that looked like two swords stuck together by the tips of their handles.
“She’s very pretty,” I said. “How did she get that scar on her eye?”
“There was a war, when she was younger than I am now. She fought against an entire army and won.” I could tell she was exaggerating, but there was pride in Lyriana’s voice. She touched the screen and another image appeared. “This is my dad.”
I couldn’t see much more than his face, but he seemed kind, considering the happy grin on his face. “How did you meet my ‘dad’?” I asked.
“We found him and the dwarf in a ditch on the side of the road.”
“Dwarf?” I thought for a second. Oh! “Boris, you mean?”
She laughed. “Close enough.”
“Do you like my dad?”
“Between you and me,” she said, leaning in to whisper, “sometimes he makes me want to kill him.”
“Mom used to say that too. So, you’re friends?”
She tilted her head as she thought about it. “You know, I guess you could say that, more or less.”
I sighed. “So this isn’t real. Mom says he doesn’t have any friends. Except her, I guess, but only because she made him kidnap her.” I looked at Lyriana’s shoes. “So, are you going to stab me with those?”
“What?” She looked at her feet. “No. But I can take them off if it would make you more comfortable.” She didn’t even wait for my answer and quickly removed the boots.
Curious, I took the boots and tried putting them on. They were a little big for my feet, but not too big. Still, they were weird, and hard to walk in. Lyriana had to catch me to keep me from falling. “Are you going to make me walk in them? Is that the torture this time?” I tried standing again. “Ow. That hurts worse than the lava. How do you walk in those?”
“You have to practice,” she said. “But the way it makes your butt look is worth it.” Why would someone want their butt to look good? Was that more adult stuff? “I remember butts… and a gun?”
There was a knock at the door and Lyriana went to go talk to Gregor. “Will push ups help little girl feel better? Not a lot, maybe a hundred or so,” he whispered.
There was a pained look on Lyriana’s face. “Gregor…” she said.
“What? It makes me feel better.” He leaned in and whispered quieter. “We have to make progress soon, or Terry may do something stupid. Burin has been talking to him and he hasn’t said anything mean this whole time.”
Lyriana nodded. “Tell him that it will be fine, but it’s going to take time. She needs time to deal with the things that happened to her. He’s waited this long already, and now she’s here, safe. Time is something he has, for once.”
“I will tell him. Please, give this to girl.”
Lyriana returned and presented something to me. It was some kind of charm made from black feathers tied with some string. “Do you know what this is?” she asked me.
“It seems… familiar? I remember… talking fancy, I think? ‘Dost thou givest me thine feathers?’” It was so silly I almost laughed. “But it’s pretty,” I said. “A lot of the stuff in my head doesn’t make sense. There’s a lot of anger and sad. But not my sad. Like I’m dreaming. Do you feel that way sometimes, Miss Lyriana?”
She nodded. “Sometimes. Every time I think about what’s happening back home.”
That wasn’t right. “But… you can do things. Why can’t you just fly home and be with your mom and dad?”
The dwarf, Boris, came in. “Actually,” he said. “To understand that, you have to understand spell levels.” He pulled out a cup and a bucket. “This cup is a second level spell. If magic is water, you need enough water to fill this cup to cast the spell. This bucket is a third level spell, so even though it’ll hold dozens of cups, you need that much water inside before you can cast it. A third level spell is like a pond. And a fourth level spell is like a lake.” He continued on for several minutes. It was incredibly interesting, and when he was done, I understood.
“So traveling that far away takes more water than is in the whole ocean?”
“Right.”
“But you think she can get there?”
“One day,” Lyriana cut in. “My daddy already can, so I’m hoping I’ll be just as strong.”
“I see,” I said. “Thanks for explaining things, Mister Boris.”
“It’s Burin,” he said.
“Oh, sorry. Thanks Mister Boris Burin.”
The big woman walked him to the door, and then laughed. She called over Lyriana, who went to go look as well. She then giggled and motioned for me to come look.
I was afraid, but my curiosity got the better of me and I crept over to look. At first, I saw Gregor. He was standing there looking sternly at something, and shouting orders. “You have only done seven. You must go faster if you plan to get the full hundred!”
I looked at where he was looking, and there was “Dad”, struggling terribly to do pushups. The whole thing was so absurd that I couldn’t help myself. I laughed so hard that it startled me. Lyriana looked at me and laughed too, making me laugh again. And then Burin started laughing, and that sound made me laugh so hard that I almost peed myself.
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“Okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was going to listen to Greta, but it was smarter to hide that fact.
She pulled out another one of those little mirror things and handed it to me. On the back was a pretty drawing of a little white cat dressed in people clothes. “I had the magic box make this for you,” she said. “If you need anything, you can use it to contact me while I’m gone. Just press right here and say my name and it will reach me as long as I’m no more than about thirty miles from the hut. You can also call Burin, Gregor or your dad if you need to by doing the same thing, just saying their names instead.”
The kitty walked into the room. “They’re almost ready,” she said to Lyriana.
“Tell them I’ll be right there,” she responded.
“Can Nebula stay with me?” I asked.
Her face became a little sad. “Sorry kiddo. But the truth is that Nebbie’s not really here. Her real body is somewhere else and the form you see is a projection using me as a conduit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She’s not really here,” she said. “If I get too far away, she disappears.”
“But I can see her,” I protested.
She thought about it for a moment and pulled out a normal mirror. She set it into my hand, turning it so I could see her reflection. “Am I in your hand right now?” she asked.
That was a silly question. “No.”
“But you can see me in your hand, right there,” she said, pointing.
“That’s just a reflection in a mirror.”
She nodded. “Exactly. Nebbie’s like that. What you see is similar to a reflection, and in a way, I’m like the mirror.” She took the mirror from my hand. “And now that the mirror is gone, you can no longer see my reflection in it.”
I guess that made sense. An idea formed. “Then, maybe I could become a mirror and be able to see my Mom again, even though she’s not here?”
“I…” She blinked. “You know, that might be possible. But I’m not sure how to do it. I’m pretty sure it’ll take a lot of work though.”
I nodded. “I’ll find a way. Maybe I’ll work on that while you’re gone.”
She patted my head again. “It can’t hurt to try, I guess. I look forward to hearing about any progress you make while I’m gone. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
I thought about it. “I’ll come, but is it okay if I don’t say anything?”
She shrugged. “If that’s what you prefer. Oh, yeah, and after we go, I left some crayons and paper on the table for you if you get bored and want to draw or something.”
I didn’t know what those were, but I’d just look on the table and try to figure out what she meant. I followed her out, keeping her between me and “Dad”. He looked at me and seemed like he was about to say something, but changed his mind. “I’ll be outside,” he said to Lyriana.
“I’ll go with him,” Gregor said, following behind.
Once he was gone, Lyriana walked over to Greta, who was sitting at the table drinking a cup of that bitter liquid. She leaned over and kissed the other woman goodbye. It lasted too long and I got embarrassed and looked away, feeling my cheeks turn red.
“You try to be careful,” Mister Burin said to me. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Okay,” I said, picking up the kitty. “And you be careful too,” I said to the cat.
She reached out and patted my nose. “I am in no danger,” she said. “But I will watch over the others.” She then flew over onto Lyriana’s shoulder. I didn’t know cats could do that. But maybe she could do that because she was just an image?
After they left, I sat down by Greta. “Can I have some?” I asked, indicating what she was drinking.
She looked up from the book she was reading and pointed to a pot on the table. “Help yourself. Try not to spill any. I don’t want to have to clean it up.”
I served myself some of the steaming drink and took a sip. I must have made a face, because she glanced over at me with a smirk and pushed a small jar over to me. “What’s that?” I asked.
“Milk with vanilla and sugar,” she said. “Put a little in your coffee.”
“How much?” I asked.
“One or two spoons of it. Or half the cup, if you really want to dilute the flavor of the coffee, like Lyriana does.”
I considered it and settled on two spoons. After stirring it in, I took another drink. “Wow!” I said. “That’s good!”
She didn’t say anything. She just nodded and went back to her book. Left to my own devices, I looked over the remaining food on the table. There were more of those syrup cakes, but Mom would have scolded me if I ate only sweets, so I grabbed some kind of meat dish and ate a bit. It was really good, though it had too much pepper.
After that was done, I finished my coffee and went and sat in the corner. “What are you doing?” Greta asked me after a moment.
“I’m trying to become a mirror,” I said.
She lowered her book and looked directly at me. “You’re going to need to be shinier if you want to do that.”
“Not that kind of mirror,” I said, laughing at how serious the woman was.
“Well, try not to hurt yourself,” she said, returning to her book.
I don’t know how long I was at it. I tried focusing, reaching out with my brain. I tried whispering and praying. I begged for my mom to come to me like Nebula did for Lyriana. Eventually, I got frustrated. “It’s not working!” I said, stamping my foot after I got up.
“What makes you think it would?” Greta asked, sipping her coffee.
“Lyriana can do it,” I said, pouting.
“Lyriana is a powerful wizard,” she said. “And you are a child.”
“But…” I protested.
“She told me that she studied for years before unlocking her magical power. How long have you studied?”
I hadn’t thought of that. Wait. Was she actually trying to make me feel better? “I haven’t,” I admitted.
“Then you will not accomplish it today,” she said.
I sighed. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… I miss my mom.”
She nodded. “You are a pup. It is only natural.”
“Do you miss your mom?” I asked.
“I am seventeen,” she said. “I moved from my mother’s home four years ago.” Seventeen? She looked older, like as old as my mom. She must have realized what I was thinking, because she spoke again. “I am a winter wolf,” she said. “We age faster than humans.” She gave me a sad smile. “I am past due to have a litter of my own.”
I imagined a bunch of fuzzy little puppies and really wanted to play with them. “But two girls can’t make a baby,” I said without thinking.
“Lyriana is a wizard,” she said again. “She will figure something out for us. Or we will find a man to help us.” Then she returned to reading her book.
I looked at the table and spotted some paper and a box filled with little colored things. Realizing those must have been what Lyriana had mentioned leaving for me to draw with, I had a seat and began drawing. It was kind of fun, and I got so focused on it that I didn’t notice Greta get up to come see what I was working on.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“You drew it, but you don’t know what it is?”
“I saw it once,” I said.
“You saw a creature with the body of a cat, the wings of a dragon and the tail of a scorpion? Must have been frightening.”
“Not a real creature,” I said. “I saw it drawn on something.” It had been on the metal of a sword and on the belt with the metal clothes Mom kept locked in the special trunk that I wasn’t supposed to open.
She nodded. “Well, now I’m curious. Let us see if we can discover the nature of such a creature.” She pulled out one of those little mirror things and pointed it at my drawing. “Spirit, what is the nature of the creature that the child has drawn.”
A voice spoke from the box. “Analyzing. Analysis complete. Likely match found. Identification: Manticore.”
“What is this manticore?” Greta asked.
“On Earth, the manticore started as a mythological creature known to the Persian empire. It was brought to European folklore by the Greeks, most notably the work of Pliny the Elder. It was said to be a fierce winged creature with the body of a lion and tail of a scorpion that delights in dining on the flesh of humans. On Golarion, notes indicate that the manticore is a real creature. Adventurer’s Guild regulations classify the standard manticore as a challenge rating of five, suitable for experienced adventurers only.”
That was weird, but cool. “Why would my mom have a manticore drawn on her sword and armor, though?” I asked.
The spirit answered. “Heraldry involving the manticore is uncommon on Golarion. The only known example is the Kingdom of Melos, where it serves as the symbol of the royal family.”
“Interesting,” Greta said. “Tell us more about Melos.”
“Melos is a city-state located on an island. Its primary exports include olives and flax. The current king is named Hercules. His heir-designate is his daughter, Hecate. He has a second daughter, Persephone, who went missing over a decade ago. It is believed that she was kidnapped by agents in the employ of Typhon Lee, who is said to have had his sights on the kingdom. Alert: Personal annotation found. Would you like to hear it?” Typhon Lee? The man who killed me? And Persephone? Wasn’t that Mom’s name?
“Yes, please,” I said. I had to know.
A man’s voice spoke. “The official position of King Hercules – by the way, it amuses me that the king’s name matches that of an ancient Greek hero – is that his daughter was kidnapped. But my agents have uncovered information suggesting that in truth, she ran away with a vagabond of some kind. They haven’t confirmed the identity of the man, but evidence suggests that it was Terry Guiser. The funniest part, of course, is that Typhon Lee hasn’t figured out that it was Terry she ran away with. Speaking of Typhon, I should probably do something about him, eventually. But that has little to do with this entry. End Recording.”
Mom was a princess?! Why hadn’t she told me that? And more importantly, what did that make me? “If I’m a princess, then that means everyone has to do what I say!” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud.
Greta snorted. How could she laugh at me? I’m a princess! She had to listen to me, obviously.
“Those are the rules,” I said.
“I’ll play along,” she said. “Tell me to do something.”
“Pour me more coffee,” I ordered her.
She turned to regard me with her full attention. “No.”
“But… princess…” I protested.
I was suddenly very aware that Greta towered over me. “If your conclusion is correct, then you have a title. A title is a form of power. Your ability to command those who recognize your authority gives you power. However, no one like that is here now. I am bigger than you. I am stronger than you. And I was left in charge by a wizard who could destroy both of us with a wave of her hand. In this current situation, your power pales in comparison to mine. And as such, you can pour your own coffee.” She could be terrifying when she wanted to be.
She then patted my head – why do people keep doing that? – and sat back down, returning to her book. I pouted for a moment, then got up and served myself more coffee. From the corner of my eye, I could see Greta smirking at me, which was super annoying.
I sat back down, took a sip – why was this so good? – and thought for a moment. “If I can’t tell people what to do, then what is being a princess good for?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
Greta shrugged. It’s weird seeing someone shrug with only one arm, by the way. Then, without looking up from her book, she gave me an answer. “You should ask Lyriana.”
“Why would she know?” I asked, curious.
“Spirit, explain to the girl who Lyriana’s father is,” Greta said.
The little mirror thingy responded. “Lyriana is the daughter of Kyle O’Halloran, the Runelord of Generosity and Ruler of Xin’Shalast.”
What? “Ruler? Like a king?”
“The Runelord serves a function similar in power and structure to a king,” the mirror replied.
“So Lyriana’s a princess too? That’s so cool!” On the other hand, I guess that meant I couldn’t boss Lyriana around either.
“While the title of princess does not exist in Xin’Shalast, as the daughter of the ruler, many other nations would recognize her as such.”
I didn’t have any other questions, so I went back to drawing. This time, I drew Lyriana and me in fancy princess dresses waiting to dance with handsome princes at a ball. It was based on a story my dad had told me once when I was little, so I made sure to get the details right, like the little fairy looking in the window to make sure we were protected from the evil goblins.
A while later, when I was almost done with my drawing, there was a polite tap on the door. A few moments later, the door opened a bit and there was a really scary looking man there. He was a skeleton, with horns and glowing eyes, and he wore black robes and a really big fur hat. Actually, at first, I couldn’t be sure if the horns were part of his head or part of the hat.
Not that I was really worried about that part. Instead, I dove behind the table, desperately trying to grab anything to protect myself with. “The demons are here to hurt me!” I screamed. I knew it was all too good to be true. I probably wasn’t even a princess.
That thought hurt me more than I want to admit.
“Calm down,” Greta said. “This is the friend Lyriana said would be coming to visit us.”
“I’m a bit offended she thinks I’m a demon,” the skeleton man said. “Those idiots have absolutely no chill.”
I peeked out from my hiding place. He was sitting down next to Greta. He seemed to be smiling at me, which was hard since he didn’t have any skin. “So you’re not here to hurt me?” I asked, warily.
“Oh, I intend to beat you mercilessly,” he said with a laugh. “But only at cards.” To make his point, he set a deck of cards on the table.
“And you’re sure he’s okay?” I asked Greta.
She shrugged again as she set down her book, carefully putting a ribbon in between the pages with her only hand. “Lyriana said he was, and that’s good enough for me.”
“O-Okay,” I said, climbing up and back into my seat. I discovered to my annoyance that I had knocked over my coffee in my rush to hide.
Another voice spoke over my shoulder. “This is why I hate having children in my house,” it said. “They’re always making messes.”
I turned to find a weird duck lady standing behind me. “Ack!” I screamed as I hid under the table again. For some reason, I was certain she was going to hit me with a broom.
“The child seems pretty high strung,” the skeleton man said. “Hello, Zorka.”
“She’s been through a lot,” Greta answered. She looked under the table at me. “You can come out. That’s just Zorka, who serves Baba Yaga.”
“Hello,” the duck lady answered the skeleton. “It has been long since you’ve visited.”
“My dear cousin forgot about me,” he said. “I fear I’ve wasted away to nothing but bones.”
“Very funny,” Zorka said. I could hear her wiping the table as she spoke.
I carefully climbed back out, making sure I was sitting next to Greta. I wasn’t sure how safe I’d be with any of them, but she seemed the safe bet. “Who is Baba Yaga?” I asked.
“The most powerful witch to ever live,” Greta said. “She’s the one that the others are trying to rescue.”
“A witch?” I asked. “Aren’t witches evil?”
“Witches are powerful, and that goes double for Baba Yaga.” She didn’t even bother answering my question.
I got some more coffee and we played a couple games of something the skeleton man called “Old Maid.” I lost three of the four games, which made winning the one game even better. After that, the skeleton man suggested we try another game, one he called “Spades”.
But, as he was explaining the rules, everyone started staring at me. “What?” I asked, as I reached for my coffee. When I touched the cup, I felt a sharp pain in my finger. “OW!” I said.
“How are you doing that with your hair?” Greta asked.
“Doing what with my…” As I spoke, I reached up. My hair was sticking straight up. But before I could react, I felt that same pain all through my body and everything went black for a minute.
After that is when things got really scary.
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It didn’t help that Terry seemed unable to handle Emily’s presence as well, though I can’t blame him entirely. It was obvious she didn’t trust that he was real, and I suspect that their relationship was probably a bit strained to begin with based on what I know of Terry. I mean, I’m sure that he was doing his best, but I highly doubt he was the kind of father who just seemed to know all the right things to say to make you feel better no matter how bad things seemed, or even the kind of father who could just make you laugh with a mere word. Maybe he could be the father that she could always rely on to be there to protect her, though after what happened with Typhon, she might have found that assumption shattered.
But still, he seemed lost, and had no idea what to do to mend things between himself and his daughter. It was going to take time, and likely would be harder than it needed to be – which, now that I think about it, is quintessentially Terry for you.
Speaking of fathers that have all the answers, I found instructions on how to be able to contact people inside the hut’s extradimensional space from outside in my phone. Apparently Daddy had done something similar once to allow himself to get phone calls when in his workshop demiplane. It was actually a pretty easy fix. So, once the hut came to a stop, I ran a cable from an antenna in our section of the hut to one placed just outside the doorway. I then tested it by calling Burin and having him call me back. He came through clear as day and sounding as goofy as ever.
Once that was done, I went to tell Emily that we were leaving, instructing her to mind Greta. Then I gave her a phone of her own, complete with its own Hello Kitty phone case. I taught her how to call me explicitly if she had any problems, leaving off how to contact anyone else. It was voice activated, so she could easily call any of the rest of us if necessary. And even if she tried to call “Boris”, the phone’s VI would know who she meant.
I was hoping she’d reach out to Terry, but I couldn’t force it. That’s why I specifically didn’t teach her how to call anyone else. If she wanted it enough, she could do it. It was the best I could do.
While I was chatting with Emily, the others headed outside, leaving me to catch up. “It’s so weird being in an adult body again,” Terry was saying. “Everything seems so much smaller. I keep missing the trigger hold on the gun.”
“You must train to get used to the body,” Gregor answered. “We will start you with a hundred push-ups. Eventually, you will be ready to climb the cliff.”
“How will that help me with things feeling smaller?” Terry asked dubiously.
“First, you train the body. The mind follows after. Burin gets it. Right? Strength of body leads to strength of mind.”
The dwarf considered it. “You can’t just be strong. You have to be hardy as well,” he said, pounding his hand into his chest.
“I’m going to regret asking you two for help,” Terry said.
Burin ignored him and looked around until he found a rock the size of his own head. He leaned down and picked it up, then tossed it at Terry with both arms.
“Hey!” Terry protested as he dodged the rock, which sunk into the soft ground at his feet.
“That defeats the purpose,” Gregor said, chiding Terry. He bent down, picked up the rock and tossed it back to Burin, who caught it. “See, like that.”
I rolled my eyes at them. Men.
Burin enchanted the rock with light so they could keep tossing it back and forth in the dark and we began heading in what I guessed to be the rough direction of our destination. We had been traveling for about ten minutes when Burin suddenly dropped the rock and ran forward, waving his hands and shouting “Hello!” in the language of water elementals.
Or, at least, that’s what Nebbie said he was yelling.
Shots rang out as the hidden snipers began firing at us. Gregor actually knocked a bullet out of the air like that hot superheroine, the one in the leotard. I have no idea why I’m blanking on her name when I can picture her perfectly. Oh well.
Terry tried to bring his gun to bear, but it jammed as he fired it and all he got for his trouble was shot. “With more training, you could have prevented that,” Gregor said to Terry as he charged through the snow. Gregor’s strike turned one of the snipers into a fine mist, coloring the snow red as what was left of the poor man collapsed to the snow.
Burin also charged, his axe biting deeply into the unarmored flesh of another sniper as he simultaneously apologized for having to do so. Terry quickly unjammed his gun and fired, wounding a third. She cried out in pain, and I launched a volley of force bolts at her to help bring her down quickly.
In the end, I believe Gregor killed three of them – maybe more, there was a lot of red snow – and we were all none the worse for the encounter, aside from some minor wounds that were healed quickly with nanite injections. It almost felt unfair fighting twentieth century soldiers with a combination of magic and the advancements in technology brought by more than a century.
On the other hand, there were more of them than us, so we needed what advantages we could get.
“I really don’t think they’re going to learn Aquan if we keep killing them,” Burin said, his tone serious.
“I’m not sure we’re here to teach them. Maybe we should try to be more stealthy?” I suggested. “I really would prefer not to get shot, if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Burin said, pulling a bullet fragment out of his cheek as the nanites were doing their work.
“I have an idea,” Terry said. He found the least mutilated corpse and studied it for a moment, then used his ioun stone to disguise himself as the dead person. “I’ll scout ahead,” he said. “That way I might be able to warn you if anything’s coming.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Cortana, be a dear and turn on radio mode for our phones?”
“Radio mode activated,” the VI responded.
As Terry left, Gregor climbed the nearest tree. “I’m going to get my bearings,” he said in answer to my question. A few moments later, the fighter jumped back down. “Light and buildings a few miles in that direction,” he said, pointing. “I’m guessing that’s where we’re going.”
We started heading in that direction. A few minutes later, Terry called out over the radio. “I found some tracks. Some kind of patrol, I’m guessing. A horse drawn cart and at least two or three people on foot, from the tracks. I think they’re heading in the general direction of where you are. They might have heard the gunshots. I doubt you have more than a minute before they reach your position.”
Gregor and I exchanged glances. I immediately flew into a nearby tree, and he leapt into another in a single bound. That left poor Burin by himself. He stood there for a moment, frozen with indecision. Too long, really. In the end, Burin had to be Burin, so he waved at the approaching patrol.
The patrol consisted of three individuals on foot being led by a horse drawn cart with a machine gun in it. The soldiers immediately pointed their weapons at Burin. “Right,” Burin said with a sigh, growing to nearly ten feet tall and pointing his axe at the enemy.
Gregor dropped from his tree, turning into a frost giant as he fell. The machine gun grew panicked and began firing at Burin, since he was in their sights. As they did so, two of the men on foot unleashed volleys of fire from their light machine guns at Gregor while the third fired a blast from his flamethrower.
I cast a spell to turn Nebula into a moon dragon. Yes, that’s a thing that exists. Look it up. Meanwhile, Burin ran forward and began trying to flip the cart. I could see it begin to lift off of the ground as Gregor punched the guy feeding ammo into the gun. Then Terry came from behind them and launched a rocket. Directly at the guy with the flamethrower.
Of course, the flamethrower exploded. Luckily, Gregor and Burin survived. Burin even continued flipping the cart. He even managed to get it flipped just in time for when the tanks crashed through the woods.
Terry was so surprised by their arrival that he let go of his rocket launcher – it was on one of those harnesses people use for cameras, you know the stability ones – and pulled out his regular gun to take a shot at the armored vehicle for some reason.
I conjured a ball of lightning and hurled it at the nearest tank while Gregor charged the other and pummeled it into scrap. Terry kept shooting and the tank I’d hit stopped moving. Maybe he’d gotten lucky and hit the driver? I don’t know. I didn’t have time to think about it, as we could hear more tanks coming and the others had sustained wounds from the firing tanks.
And then something weird happened. “Hey, Burin, what’s going on with your hair?” Terry asked.
I looked over and Burin’s hair was standing straight up. There was a part of my brain screaming that there was something significant about that, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Not before we spotted two more tanks coming through the woods at us.
And then it was a moot point, because there was a loud pop of electricity, and there, standing next to Burin, was a terrified looking Emily. Burin looked at her, then looked at the tanks, then back at her. “I FORGOT TO CARRY THE ONE!” he shouted, horrified realization dawning on his face.
The terrified girl grabbed onto the giant dwarf, who spun to shield her with his body. Terry stood there, his mouth agape. “The tanks!” I shouted to him.
“Right,” he said, aiming and squeezing the trigger as his gun jammed again. His shoulders visibly slumped and I knew I had to do something.
I wasn’t letting anything happen to that girl.
“Nebbie! Get the girl off the battlefield!” I shouted at the cat-turned-dragon as I weaved another ball of lightning and flung it at the closest tank and tapped into the storm within. The ball of lightning was followed by a magical ray that struck the tank, completely disintegrating it.
I wasn’t the only one who tapped into my inner pool of power. Gregor batted aside a tank shell and teleported forward. He hit the second tank so hard that its front end crumpled with an ear-splitting creak and flipped into the air like a tiddly wink. As it flipped through the air, he spun around and gave it a hard kick, sending it flying twenty feet through the air until it slammed into a tree, sending splinters flying everywhere.
The battlefield was clear for the moment, so I flew down to where Emily and Burin were. The poor girl was hyperventilating and shivering at the same time. I whipped off my coat and gave it to her, not that it would do much, since it was made for looks, not function. And she wasn’t even wearing shoes.
“We should move,” I said. “Before anyone else comes to investigate.”
“Am I back in Hell?” Emily asked.
“No, kitten,” Nebbie answered.
“Wait, are you the cat?”
“She is,” I said, dispelling the transformation. Emily picked her up and held her tight.
“Then where are we?” Emily asked. “If this isn’t Hell?”
“Roosha,” Burin answered in the language of water elementals, which Nebbie helpfully translated. “It’s a country on Lyriana’s home world.”
“Then we can get her mommy and daddy to help us?”
“Sorry,” I answered. “They haven’t been born yet. We’re on my world, but more than a hundred years in my past.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Burin said as he began explaining. It was so technical that Nebula couldn’t even translate it. But Emily hung on every word, soaking up the knowledge like a sponge.
“That’s amazing!” Emily said, finally. “I’ll have to tell Miss Greta about it as soon as I… OH NO! MISS GRETA’S GONNA BE SO MAD I LEFT!”
I suddenly realized I probably should have called Greta already. “Crap!” I said, grabbing my phone and making the quick call to let my wife know that Emily was with us.
I looked up from my phone call to spot Gregor and Terry returning. I hadn’t even noticed that they’d left. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea,” Terry was saying. “I’m just saying I’m not wearing the robes.”
“The robes are an important part of the training,” Gregor countered. “They are weighted to improve your strength, and are very stylish.”
“Where have you been?” I asked, interrupting their discussion.
“We found a cave, not far from here,” Terry said. “We can get warm there.”
“Good thinking,” I said. He was trying, at least.
Gregor walked over to Emily. “We will take you somewhere and get a good fire going,” he said. “But you are not wearing shoes, and have not had Sergei’s training, so you are not ready to walk through the snow barefoot.” He grabbed an old fur from his bag – I think it was the one from the hamster, maybe? – and wrapped it around her. He then picked her up. “I will carry you this time, until we can make you some shoes.”
“Thank you, Mister Gregor,” Emily said. She sniffed. “This fur smells weird.”
Gregor sniffed it and made a face. “I may not have cleaned it properly. You will be fine for now. Enduring will be part of your training.”
“Okay,” Emily said.
“So, what happened?” Terry asked Burin from the back of the group as Gregor led the way.
“I was wrong in my calculation. The effect that bound us was tied to our bodies, not souls.”
“I see. Then we’ll need to take you and Emily back to the hut.”
“I am thinking we will not find another dwarf capable of taking twelve bullets and continue fighting,” Gregor answered.
Burin beamed. “I am a wizard. I could not allow something as silly as a gun to stop me.”
“And you nearly collapsed after just a single bullet,” Gregor pointed out to Terry.
They continued arguing about whether to leave Burin and Emily behind or not for several minutes before Terry finally pulled me aside. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But in truth, I worry that we might not be able to do this without Burin.”
His face fell. “I see.”
“Sorry,” I said. “We’ll do everything we can to keep her safe, but I don’t see another option at the moment. Maybe I can come up with something after we finish with Rasputin, but I don't know how much time we have for me to deal with it at the moment.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I understand. I know you’ll do your best.” He sighed. “There’s the cave. I’ll get Gregor’s magic bead and set up a fire for her.”
Once the fire was going, I set up the box and used my phone to scan Emily for her measurements. “Is everyone mad at me?” she asked me, her voice quavering.
“No,” I said. “Why would you think that?”
“You’ve all been fighting since I got here.”
I nodded. “You’re right. We have. But it’s not because of anything you’ve done, and no one blames you. But I think we’re going to have to take you with us. It’s going to be dangerous and we’re going to need you to be brave. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try.”
“Try as hard as you can,” Burin said. “We’d all be sad if you died.”
“Thanks, Mister Burin. But if I die, I’ll just go back to Hell, so it’s not like you need to worry about it.”
“NO,” Burin said emphatically. “You are not going back there, even if you die.” He began speaking rapidly in Aquan as he stooped down and drew diagrams with a stick. She listened intently, looking more than a little nervous at his tone. I couldn’t quite tell what he was saying, but the diagram was of the multiple planes of existence. Even Nebbie was having trouble following what he was saying and couldn’t translate it.
“So I’ll go somewhere better?” she asked with trepidation.
“Yes,” Burin answered finally as he stood up.
“Thank you, Mister Burin,” she said, giving him a hug.
I patted her head. “Good girl. Now let’s get you some stuff to keep you safe and warm. And especially some cute shoes.”
“They won’t have big heels, will they?”
I laughed. “No, kiddo, no big heels for you.”
A few minutes later, I had used the box to make a chain shirt and a suit of base layer thermal clothing for Emily as well as a warm dress to wear over it. Then I had the box turn one of Gregor’s many furs into a panda hoodie to wear over everything. It even had little ears on the hoodie, it was adorable.
Once she was dressed, I gave her some more things. “This little box is called a wayfinder,” I said. “Clip it onto your belt and the stone inside will protect your mind from evil spirits.”
“Oh! Wow! Where did you get this?” she asked.
I smiled. “It was mine. But I think you need it more. I also had the box make you this.” I handed her another box. She opened it, revealing the pizzicato within. “It’s a gun,” I said. “Be careful where you point it. And this is how you load the ammo.” She immediately took to it, as if she’d been holding a gun for years.
In a way, I guess she had.
“Did you know my mom was a princess?” Emily asked me.
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s what the spirit in the magic mirror said. Apparently my mom was the princess of an island called, um, Megalos? Mellan?”
“Melos,” Terry supplied grumpily from his position keeping watch by the cave entrance.
“Yeah, that. And you’re a princess too,” she said.
What? “How do you figure?”
“Well, your daddy rules a nation, so that makes you a princess.”
“Rules a nation?” I thought about it. “Oh! The Runelord thing. Right. He says the council pretty much rules the place and he’s just there to keep them from killing each other. But I guess you’re not wrong.”
“Also, Greta says you can kill people with a wave of your hand, so please tell me if I’m making you angry enough to kill me so I can stop?”
Just what had Greta been telling her? I was starting to wonder about my wife’s image of me. “Fair enough, but remember that if I ever tell you to eat your veggies,” I said playfully.
“Yes ma’am,” Emily said dutifully. She looked at Gregor. “Excuse me for asking, Mister Gregor, but when we were fighting, were you turned into a giant?”
“I was,” the fighter said. “We killed some giants and I used the box to turn their skin into magic armor.”
“You killed some giants?”
Gregor flexed. “Yes, though I must admit that the others helped. You should see Burin when he gets going. He can grow big without magic armor.”
Emily’s eyes grew wide. “Really, Mister Burin?”
The dwarf nodded. “Yes. I’ve always been able to do that.”
“So it’s not because you’re a wizard? Then can other dwarves grow big like that?”
“No. I’m pretty sure one of my ancestors was a duergar.”
“A what?”
“A gray dwarf. They’re a people who live entirely underground and most of them are very bad. So be careful if you’re ever underground.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Gregor got up from where he was seated. “Come, we should make sure you know how to shoot that thing. Let us go catch lunch.”
“Okay,” Emily said, getting up. “Mister Burin, will you come with us?”
“I don’t know, I’m not good with animals.”
“Please?” she pleaded.
Burin sighed. “Alright, let’s go.”
After they left, I went over to where Terry was sitting. “You okay?” I asked.
“Not really. I have no idea what I’m doing. It was so much easier at the farm. Persephone handled the kids and all I had to do was make sure everyone was safe. I thought I was doing a pretty good job at it, but then I went and pissed off Typhon, so I even failed at that.”
So he hadn’t been a very involved father? I mean, I can get that. Some families are like that. But if my parents’ love of sappy Christmas movies has taught me anything, you can choose to do better after learning an important lesson. “Well, this is your chance to learn to be better. Don’t waste it. Time to man up.”
He winced. “Yeah, I deserved that. Say, can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.”
“Well, it’s just that, and I hate to ask because I don’t want to seem greedy, but, well, Emily’s not an only child.”
I remembered what Emily had said earlier. “Toby?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He laughed bitterly. “I named him that just to irritate Persephone. She wanted to name him Helios.”
“What happened to him?”
“One of Typhon’s thugs kicked him into the fireplace,” he said, anger in his eyes. “The boy couldn’t even but barely walk on his own, and those bastards kicked my terrified son into the fireplace.”
“I see. And you’re hoping to bring him back as well?”
He nodded. “But even if that’s not possible, even just knowing he’s not suffering like Emily was would help.”
“Reviving him will be beyond my personal ability,” I said. “Since we lack his intact body. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to do. It will be expensive, though.”
“I’ll pay whatever I have to.”
“I thought you might. As for finding out his fate, well, that I might be able to do something about. It will take some time to research, though. Sorry I can’t give you an immediate answer.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s enough. Thank you.”
We sat in silence for some time before I spoke again. “Are you okay with us taking Emily with us?”
“Honestly? Not really. But we don’t have a choice. As much as I hate to admit it, we really do need Burin. Though I’ll deny it if you tell him I said that.” He turned to Nebula. “Please, look out for my daughter while we’re fighting?”
“Me?” Nebula asked, perplexed.
“I’ve seen you die and come back like nothing happened. You’ve turned into various fantastic monsters. Heck, you can even become a dragon. In truth, you scare me more than a little. But I know that you can keep my little girl safe.”
“I will protect her with everything in my power,” Nebula answered.
Less than an hour later, the other three returned. Emily rushed over to me. “Miss Lyriana! Look!” she said, holding up a dead rabbit that had already been gutted. “I got one!”
“Very good, Emily,” I said, patting her head.
“Mister Gregor said he’s gonna make me some even better shoes out of it.”
The others followed her in, holding over a dozen other small critters. Or, at least, their corpses. Gregor looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Did we really need that many?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Burin said grumpily.
“We couldn’t just leave them,” Gregor said, the corners of his lips quivering as he suppressed a laugh.
“Leave it be,” Burin said.
“They would have eventually –“
“I said leave it be.”
I looked at Emily with a raised eyebrow. “We were watching a rabbit hole from a bush when suddenly an entire swarm of squirrels and bunnies started trying to eat Mister Burin,” the girl answered truthfully.
Gregor couldn’t take it anymore and began laughing heartily. It was infectious and I found myself laughing as well. I even heard Terry chuckle a bit.
After I regained my composure, I shot Gregor a look. “It is true,” he said. “Though, they were so busy biting him that they didn’t even notice when we came up behind them and began killing them. It took all of the sport out of it.” He actually looked a bit upset at that.
Men.
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I figured they could do it on their own, so I didn’t interfere. In hindsight, maybe I should have.
The first I heard of what was going on was Emily’s excited squeal. “I LOVE THEM!” she shouted. Terry shot me a worried look.
“I’ll go check,” I said. I left the two men to the butchering and went to check on the kid. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing when I got there.
“Look!” Emily said, holding up a pair of bright pink fuzzy bunny slippers.
Where to begin with that? “Those aren’t going to do any good out in the snow,” was what I ended up settling on.
“They won’t?” Emily asked.
Gregor sighed. “No, she is right. These are not what I was trying to make. I told the box to make rabbit shoes, and this is what it made.”
I did my best not to laugh. “I see.”
“But… I love them,” Emily protested.
I thought about it for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I can have Cortana modify them so they’re an outdoor version. It’ll take me a bit of time, though,” I said.
“I understand,” Gregor responded. “I’ll go help finish the soup.”
Daddy had shown me how to do this, but I’d never really done it on my own. Now was as good a time as any. “Cortana, be a dear and access design mode. I want to make a cross between some snow boots and the bunny slippers you just made.”
A holographic image appeared above the box, displaying what I asked for. “Those aren’t as cute,” Emily complained.
“That’s why we’re here,” I said. “Let’s start by making the ears a little bigger…”
Ten minutes later, Emily was the owner of a pair of bright pink bunny boots that she absolutely adored. She put them on immediately. “They’re so soft!” she cooed.
I grinned at her. “Go show the boys. Showing off your pretty clothes to boys is half the fun.”
“Okay!” she said, running to show the others.
As we ate, we devised what to do next. “We need to get into those buildings,” I said. “But they know we’re here. So I’m thinking maybe going straight to them might not be the best idea. We should come at them from the other side.”
“There are a lot of patrols,” Terry said. He would know, having done a bit more scouting while the soup cooked.
“There’s a good chance we’ll get spotted if we try to circle around,” Gregor agreed.
“That’s not a problem,” I said. “We’ll just teleport over there.”
“You can do that?” Terry asked.
“If I tap into that inner storm of power, yes. I’m pretty sure.”
“The place doesn’t sound that big,” Burin said. “If we get into a fight, surely defenders from the other side will come as well.”
“Then we should draw them off, perhaps into some traps, before we teleport?” Gregor suggested.
“Ooh! We could bring them here and set off a fire!” Terry suggested.
“I can dig some holes for them to fall into,” Burin offered.
“Then all that we need is some way to get them here,” I said. “Do we still have those old stick grenades from the village?”
“I have them,” Terry said, rummaging through his pack.
“Gregor, how many do you think you need to get their attention enough to chase you back here?”
“Three, maybe four,” the fighter said.
“Good. Then, Terry, you can use the rest as part of your own traps. We have just a couple hours til nightfall, so let’s get prepped and we’ll go when the sun has set.”
“What should I do?” Emily asked.
I considered the tasks everyone would be working on and picked the one she could likely actually help with and wouldn’t be as dangerous to work on. “Help Gregor set up some snares,” I said.
“Yay!” Emily cheered, jumping up onto Gregor’s back. The fighter obviously decided the extra weight would help with his training and bounded out of the cave. Burin grabbed his shovel and followed after.
“What will you be doing?” Terry asked me.
“I’m going to see if Daddy left any helpful suggestions for this situation in his notes.”
“Let me know if you find anything.”
Sure enough, Daddy had suggestions, and after not too long, I had a number of high-tech magnetic anti-tank mines to give to Burin to bury. They were designed to completely annihilate themselves to prevent their recovery so they wouldn’t mess with the timeline. They would also blow themselves up in thirty six hours so they wouldn’t become a long term problem like minefields had been back in the twentieth century.
Just after nightfall, we decided we were completely prepared and set about to begin the operation. “I wanna go with Mister Gregor,” Emily declared.
“I do too,” Burin said. “But we’d just slow him down. Don’t worry. He’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
“Okay,” Emily said, looking at the ground.
“Be ready,” I said. “There may still be a few defenders on the other end when we get there. We can’t assume they’ll all follow Gregor.”
“What do I do if there are bad guys there?” Emily asked.
“Look for cover,” Terry said. “If you don’t see any, hit the ground until we’ve killed the enemies.” He was trying, at least.
“It’ll be okay,” I told Emily, squeezing her shoulder.
“We’ll be there to protect you,” Burin agreed.
A few minutes later, Gregor came flying through the forest. “They are not far behind,” he said.
“Alright, everyone hold hands,” I said as I drew on the power within. Everyone grasped hands and I released the power. Moments later, we were miles away, on the far side of Rasputin’s compound. Everything was going according to plan.
“Your shadow told me you would do this very thing, but I must admit that I did not believe it,” said the voice of the projection of Grigori Rasputin standing between us and the trench around the compound.
Okay, so not EVERYTHING was going to plan.
“What?” Burin asked, genuinely confused. “The shadow predicted we would come and defeat you?”
Rasputin didn’t know how to answer that. “Who is that?” Emily asked.
“That is the projection of the Man Who Would Not Die,” Gregor answered.
“Then why are you fighting him? If he can’t die, then you can’t kill him.”
“He just hasn’t been punched hard enough.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Just stay back and observe.”
“But if he’s just a projection, who are you going to punch?”
“I tire of this prattle,” Rasputin said. “And I am still annoyed with this child for throwing a blini at me.” He turned to the watchtower on the other side of the trench. “Shoot her.”
Adrenaline flashed through my body and I could hear my heart beating as I looked up at the watch tower and spotted some kind of undead sniper rising up and taking aim. I desperately tried to think of what spell to cast to prevent it, but I couldn’t think of anything I had prepared that would help.
Thankfully, Gregor was able to act. He swung his hand out with the sound of the gunshot, striking the bullet from the air with his bracer inches from Emily’s face. It startled Emily so much that she fell backwards on her butt, looking like she was about to cry.
“Polkovnik, bring me their corpses,” Rasputin said with a laugh. His projection disappeared, reappearing on the far side of the trenches. Behind where he was standing, flames ignited, revealing the unearthly form of a dullahan.
The dullahan charged striking Burin with his lance, a glancing blow at best and continued riding by. Meanwhile, another trio of snipers rose up from the trenches and began firing at us. This time, Gregor wasn’t fast enough to block all of them, and two bullets struck Emily. Three struck Burin, but he just shrugged them off, running over to help Emily as Terry took a bullet of his own while he took aim to shoot the sniper on the watch tower that was still firing at Emily.
Emily, in pain from the bullets, did the appropriate thing for a child in that situation. She began to cry. “Momma!” she blubbered.
And then the manticore appeared. Yeah, you read that right. Emily cried for her mother, and a massive manticore appeared standing over her. It let out a roar as its body shielded her from fire as its glowing golden eyes surveyed the battlefield. It then shot off like a rocket, straight at the watchtower, where it began clawing and biting at the undead sniper within. The impact as it hit the tower nearly tore the structure from its foundation.
I rushed to help Burin and Emily, unleashing an intense fireball over the trenches as I ran. On the way, I passed Gregor, who was dashing after the mounted dullahan, and actually easily outpacing it.
That fireball may not have been the best move, in hindsight, as it got the attention of one of the snipers. Hot lead tore through my body and stopped me in my tracks a few feet from Emily. I can’t describe how much it hurt. I wanted to cry. In fact, my eyes actually watered and my vision became blurry. And even that blurred vision darkened around the edges as tunnel vision set in.
I saw a soft light glowing at the center of my vision, where Emily had been, and felt a mild relief from my pain as positive energy washed over me, lightly healing my wounds. At the same time, I heard Gregor slam into the dullahan, and the headless undead’s nightmare steed whinnied in pain at the impact. Just after, I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground. It was likely Gregor had at least finished off the one foe.
“Drink this,” I heard Burin say to Emily, and I felt a paw on my cheek as Nebbie prompted me to drink a potion she had pulled from my bag. I gulped it down and quickly cast an illusion spell, surrounding myself with numerous fake copies of myself to reduce the chance that the sniper could hit the real me again.
I should have done that before the fireball, if I’m being honest.
“DAMMIT!” I heard Terry shout. I blinked the tears from my eyes and turned quickly. He was dealing with another jam in his gun. I was starting to wonder if he hadn’t been taking care of it properly.
I turned back to Emily. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. “But you’re still really hurt. I don’t want you to hurt anymore.” She closed her eyes and began to glow softly, and relief washed over me as more positive energy enveloped my body, healing my wounds.
What the hell was going on with this girl? First she summons an eidolon – a powerful eidolon, at that! – and now she can channel positive energy? Did Terry know she had power like that, or was this a new development brought about by her death and resurrection?
I didn’t have time to consider it, as bullets continued to whiz by me, striking several of my illusions. I quickly turned, just in time to watch Gregor fling his hat. It bounced from the sniper in the tower to the nearest one in the trench and back again before returning to Gregor’s hand. At this point, that doesn’t even surprise me.
I launched another fireball over the trench, torching a sniper as Burin sprouting white dragon wings and charged the final remaining one, cleaving it in half with his axe.
The enemies defeated, the enraged manticore turned and saw me standing next to Emily. And apparently it didn’t like that, because it charged right at me, snarling and with hatred in its eyes. “NO!” Emily screamed.
The manticore stopped inches from my face. I had already begun casting a defensive spell, but it fizzled as I lost concentration. I would have screamed, but I was too startled to do so. And then there was a really loud sound as Terry shot into the air. “HEY!” he shouted.
For my part, the sound was the last straw. My knees gave out and I fell to the floor, hyperventilating while seated in a very undignified manner. I was so freaked out I couldn’t do anything. But I could watch.
So I watched as the manticore spun and stamped over to Terry. Terry leveled his gun at it. I tried to tell him it was Emily’s eidolon and not to shoot it because that could hurt Emily, but I couldn’t speak. So I watched.
And I saw him suddenly lower the gun and tilt his head inquisitively. “You?” he said, reaching out and brushing the mane from the covered side of its face. Emily walked over and gently patted the manticore’s side. “Sleep, Momma,” she said. At the girl’s words, the manticore faded away, with the glow from the eyes disappearing last.
I finally caught my breath. “I think I need healing,” I complained weakly.
“Right,” Burin said. He marched over to Terry, who didn’t react as the dwarf grabbed the nanite gun from his holster. He then came over and injected me, then Gregor.
Emily nervously closed the distance to Terry, who had now taken a seat and was staring at the hand that had touched the manticore. He didn’t look up at her, but acknowledged her presence. “You okay?” he asked.
“The magic potion fixed me,” Emily answered. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he answered. “Just very confused.”
“I know you missed Mom, so I brought her here for you?”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I just figured if Lyriana could bring her kitty here, maybe I could bring Momma here.”
He looked up at her. “Why as a lion?”
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. But she’s less scary that way than she was before.”
Terry laughed at her joke, causing Emily to laugh as well. “Can I sit with you?”
“Sure,” Terry said. Emily sat down next to him, a tragic few inches maintained between them.
My nerves finally calmed, I assessed the situation. “Sorry, you guys, but we should get out of this open field. Let’s head towards that building on the other side of the trench.”
“Burin goes first, in case of more land mines,” Gregor suggested.
Burin shrugged. “Okay.”
I didn’t laugh as we headed towards the buildings clustered around the ethereal floating monastery I hadn’t noticed until that moment. Instead, I noticed that Emily had nervously grabbed her father’s hand and was holding onto him as the two followed behind me and Burin.
But I wasn’t distracted by the heartwarming nature of that. No, I had yet another thought on my mind. Was that eidolon really Emily’s mother, or was it another planar entity impersonating her? And which was the worse option? I mean, on the one hand, it could be a harmful entity trying to corrupt the child.
But on the other? Well, humans, even human souls, couldn’t become eidolons. And if what happened to Emily is any indication, her mother had not been sent to a good place. Emily had resisted… but what if her mother hadn’t been able to?
How was I going to tell Terry that his wife was already at least part demon?
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Smug Bastard:{. . .} Sure enough, Daddy had suggestions, and after not too long, I had a number of high-tech magnetic anti-tank mines to give to Burin to bury. They were designed to completely annihilate themselves to prevent their recovery so they wouldn’t mess with the timeline. They would also blow themselves up in thirty six hours so they wouldn’t become a long term problem like minefields had been back in the twentieth century.
{. . .}
** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
Have faith in Kyle's paranoia, even if you don't have faith in his tech prowess. :P
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So...
That is all.
Despite my inclinations, I did not title this one "Once Upon a December."
** spoiler omitted **
Barnaby wants me to let you know that the reason
I still think it's because he sits next to Szordorl and that confused the dice gods, who hate Szordorl with the anger of a thousand suns.
Barnaby wants me to let you know that the reason ** spoiler omitted **
I still think it's because he sits next to Szordorl and that confused the dice gods, who hate Szordorl with the anger of a thousand suns.
It could be unbalanced dice. If your dice aren't transparent, they can have bubbles in them. You can test them with a bowl of salt water - you need to stir in enough salt so that there is salt on the bottom of the bowl. Then your dice will float in there.
You then spin the floating die. If it keeps going back to the same number over and over again, then the die is unbalanced.
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It could be unbalanced dice. If your dice aren't transparent, they can have bubbles in them. You can test them with a bowl of salt water - you need to stir in enough salt so that there is salt on the bottom of the bowl. Then your dice will float in there.
You then spin the floating die. If it keeps going back to the same number over and over again, then the die is unbalanced.
We have tested ours. And Barnaby's work fine most of the time, just not when it's Terry's time. :P
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“It’s my world,” I reminded him.
“Right, you people complicate everything.” He focused for a moment. “There. Got it.”
We cautiously opened the door and peered inside. We weren’t prepared for what we found. There were maybe thirty men strapped to their bunks. They looked horrible, as though they had been tortured. And I think the torture had broken their minds, as they were moaning and babbling incoherently.
Terry walked over to a nearby bunk to inspect one of the men. The man screeched and tried to grab him, but Terry dodged back out of the strapped down man. “Too slow!” he said. The man didn’t seem to even notice his words.
Gregor walked over to a particular individual and Burin followed behind him. “You don’t seem to be as far gone as the others,” the fighter said.
“You’re… not with them? I’ve never seen you before,” the man answered.
“With who?” Burin tried to ask in Aquan, which Nebbie translated for me.
“With who?” Gregor asked, this time in Russian. As they talked, I noticed Terry was counting the men in the bunks and had begun setting out bullets for each of them. It was clear he intended to put them out of their misery.
“The Brothers Three,” the man said. “Vile nosferatu. They have kept us here as cattle to slake their thirsts.”
“And what happened to the others?” Gregor indicated the other men around them.
“They’ve been here longer than I. Their minds have been broken by the repeated feedings. Please, I will tell you everything I know. Just help me get out of here. I don’t want to die as fodder for blood sucking vermin.”
Gregor looked dubious. He turned to me and Burin. “Is it safe?” he asked in Taldan. “Is there not a chance he could turn into a vampire himself?”
Burin looked the man over. “He looks fine to me,” he answered.
I thought for a moment about what I’d read in Daddy’s notes. I’d been kinda interested in vampires for a bit when I discovered they were real, and even more interested when I found out a few had been found to still be on Earth. “I don’t think so?” I said, not entirely sure. “I want to say I remember reading that nosferatu don’t have the ability to create spawn. Assuming that he’s correctly identified them, that is. But nosferatu supposedly look really different from other vampires, so it might be hard to mistake them.”
Gregor nodded. “Good enough for me.” He turned back to the man. “What’s your name, friend?”
“Dmitri,” the man answered.
“We’re going to untie you. Don’t make us regret it.”
“Understood,” Dmitri answered. “Thank you.”
“What about the others?” Terry asked. “Can any of them be saved? Or would it be better if I put bullets in each of their heads?”
“I fear they are too far gone,” Dmitri answered. “A quick death would be a mercy.”
“Okay,” Terry said, starting to load his pistol.
“Wait,” I said.
“What?”
“Won’t that be loud? Won’t someone come to investigate?” I was confused that no one had come after us already. It was possible that they hadn’t realized exactly where we were, so I was hesitant to risk letting the others draw attention to our location.
Terry thought about it. “Good point,” he said, holstering his pistol. He pulled out his kukri. “This will be much quieter.” He began to whistle as he cheerily began slashing the throats of the men.
In horror, I grabbed Emily and covered her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch her father happily murder so many men, even if he was technically doing a good deed. The girl struggled at first, curious to see, but ended up giving up fighting.
The men Terry was killing didn’t even react as he cut them down. That’s how far gone they were. I felt nauseous as I watched, and was grateful for the distraction when Emily spoke up. “Miss Lyriana?”
“Yes?” I asked the girl, looking at her and away from the horrible scene.
“Do I have to get shot every time I want to call on Mama?”
I considered what I knew about summoners. “I don’t think so,” I said. “You just need to focus, though it will probably be easier to summon her when you’re scared.”
“Oh, okay.”
Gregor asked Dmitri what he knew about the floating monastery. “I do not know much. You might ask the fairy who lives in the graveyard.”
Gregor nodded. “We’ll do that. It’s on the outskirts of the camp, so we can leave you there.”
Terry finished his grim business. “They’re all dead, but I saw a few gold teeth. Give me a few minutes.”
Annoyed, I took Emily outside. Burin and Dmitri followed me, but Gregor stayed inside to help.
A few minutes later, the two men came outside. “What’s that smell?” Burin asked.
“If Dmitri is wrong, I am not going to risk them rising from their graves to hunt us,” Gregor said. “So I set the building on fire.”
What? “That’s going to draw a lot of attention!” I protested.
“We’re going elsewhere, so it’ll be fine,” Gregor answered with a shrug. “Let us go.” Terry and Burin both nodded at the logic.
What was wrong with these people?
We made our way to the cemetery as quietly as we could. Behind us, the small fire turned into a full blaze as flames engulfed the roof. It wouldn’t be long until someone came to investigate, but maybe it would at least take attention off of where we were and where we were going. But I still would have preferred not drawing any attention at all.
As we entered the cemetery, we found the fairy in question. I’m not sure how to describe her other than to say she was small, with grey skin and large black eyes. Kinda like a one of those grey aliens that were all the rage in popular culture back when I was a kid. They made so many movies about those. I loved them, but I was terrified that they’d come get me and had trouble sleeping for the entire summer when I was eight. At least until I finally said something to my parents and Daddy pointed out that Juiz would never let something like that happen.
Well, okay, that’s not exactly a perfect description. The eyes were smaller, and more round than like almonds. And she had pointed ears, like an elf. And I’ve never heard of a grey alien digging with a shovel.
That shovel attracted Burin’s attention. Strangely for the dwarf, rather than calling out to her, he drew his own shovel and walked over, respectfully tapping her shovel gently with his. “NO!” she said, looking at him. “These are my bones! You find your own!”
“Sorry,” Burin said. “I don’t mean to impose or anything. I just wanted to show my respect to a fellow digger.” Of course, he answered everything she said in Russian by speaking in Aquan, so Nebbie translated it for him. Later, I found time to ask him why he kept trying to speak to everyone in Aquan and he explained. “Well, you see, most of the world is covered in water, so Aquan is the most common language.”
I hate that I can’t fault that logic. It’s the stupidest, most Burin thing I’ve ever heard, but at the same time, it makes a weird kind of sense.
“Yes,” Gregor added. “We’re not interested in bones. Skins, maybe. But not bones.”
“We’ve come to see if you know anything about Rasputin and that ghostly monastery up there,” I said.
“Ras who?” she asked.
“The Man Who Will Not Die,” Gregor said.
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Baba Yaga’s son,” Burin suggested and Nebbie translated.
“Oh! The one who seeks to steal Little Grandmother’s throne!” She looked at us suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
“Please, anything you can tell us might be useful,” I said. “We need Little Grandmother’s help to save an entire world from her daughter’s ambitions, but since she’s in danger, we have to save her first so she can help us.”
She regarded me for a moment. “You truly wish to save Little Grandmother?”
“We need her help,” I said. “I do not know if we would be involved if we didn’t. But there’s no other way, so we must save her.” I had the feeling that honesty was the right path to winning her trust. Fey creatures are capricious, but they always act in their own interests. If she understood that saving Baba Yaga was in our benefit, then she would understand why we could be trusted to do so.
“I see,” she said. “Then you will need to find your way into the church but not a church that lies halfway between this world and the world from which I come.”
“How do we do that?” Terry asked.
“You will need to find a way to deal with the Anchors of the World.”
“The what?” Gregor asked. She shrugged. “Okay, you don’t know the specifics. Is there someone who does?”
“You must seek the one who made them. But that will be difficult.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “The goat has his soul,” she whispered.
Terry threw his arms into the air. “DAMMIT,” he said.
I looked to see if Emily was reacting to the mention of the goat, but she wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she was crouched down by a nearby tombstone, muttering to herself. I strained a bit and I could just barely make out “I’m a princess.” being repeated over and over.
That kid was a little weird.
“We can’t just fly up to it?” Terry was asking the fairy when I turned back.
“It isn’t there, even if you can see it.”
The assassin sighed. “Okay. Fine. Where do we find the goat?”
“The goat is being held by the soldiers in the camp.”
“This sounds like a lantern goat,” Burin noted. “It won’t be an easy foe.” Of course, he was still talking in Aquan, so Nebbie translated. I’d heard about those. They were undead creatures who looked like goats and used the captured souls of mortals to fuel their powers.
“Gregor gets to fight it,” Terry commented.
“No, you will fight it,” Gregor said. “With your bare hands. For training.”
“B*%~&+&#,” Terry answered. Gregor just smiled.
“If we retrieve the soul, we’ll be able to talk to him?” I asked the fairy.
She shook her head. “No, you’ll need his body as well.”
“And where’s that?” Terry asked.
“Not sure,” the fairy shrugged. She sniffed the air. “I think he was near the fire.”
Gregor pointed to the smoke rising from the fire he’d set. “That fire?”
She shook her head. “No. Older fire. The goat started it so it could steal his soul.”
“Just great. Now the goat starts fires,” Terry grumbled. Gregor laughed at that. Terry ignored him and turned to Dmitri. “Where is this camp she’s talking about?”
“On the far side of the compound. A group of Cossack mercenaries is there. Their leader is a headless monster. Be careful of him.”
Gregor flexed his forearm. “We’ve already met. He did not come out the better for the fight.”
“We’ll head through the town and see if we can find signs of a fire,” Burin said, finally speaking Taldan once more. “Thank you, Miss…” he left it hanging.
“You may call me Polina,” the fairy said. “Bring me the goat’s lantern and the body, and I can return the man who made the Anchors of the World to life so you can save Little Grandmother.”
She was going to bring him back? That didn’t bode well, since tombstone fairies could only bring back evil beings. Not that Baba Yaga was a saint either. I guess if saving the world meant working with a few bad guys, the lives saved would be worth it. At least I hoped.
“We’re going, kiddo,” Terry said to Emily.
“Coming,” she said, standing up and running over to us.
As we made our way through the compound or whatever you want to call it, we made a half-assed attempt at stealth. It was obvious they knew we were here, so it’s not like we would benefit from completely hiding our presence. But it would still be best if they didn’t know exactly where we were.
As we passed a building – it looked like a barn or something – we noticed a strong odor. It smelled like, well, I don’t know. Have you ever been around wet cattle? It was kinda like that, only different. It was definitely an animal odor.
Burin went over and opened the door, peering in. “Hello!” he called out guilelessly.
Animal screeches answered him. They sounded similar to the sound of silverback gorillas, maybe? “Screw this,” Terry said, whipping out his rocket launcher and firing into the barn before I could even point out the amount of noise that would make.
Emily similarly jumped into action. “I’m a princess!” she said, her voice filled with determination. “Momma! Help Dad!” she shouted.
The manticore appeared once more and charged into the barn. I looked inside after it and watched as it began tearing into what appeared to be yetis. It was too late to bother with stealth, so I lobbed two fireballs into the barn to help kill the monsters before they could attack the manticore. It – no, she – was still injured, and as an eidolon, if she took too much damage, it was possible that she might drain life force from Emily to sustain herself.
“Behind us!” Gregor called out.
I turned to see what he was talking about. Sure enough, our noise had drawn attention. There was a sickly yellow fog rolling in, and there were signs of movement within the fog. There was something off about the cloud. I could smell it from where I was, but I didn’t make the connection in time. Before I could react, Burin took a deep breath and plunged into the cloud to attack whatever was inside.
Gregor chased after him. “It’s poison!” I called out to him. Worse than poison, actually. It was corrosive mustard gas. If that stuff was around, we were going to need gas masks. Even my lack of breathing wouldn’t quite protect me.
The fighter stopped just outside of the cloud and began punching it. I’m not sure if that’s crazy or not considering what we’ve seen, but it was pretty nuts. What was even crazier was when his fist connected. One blow after another struck the cloud, with a strangely solid impact. Three or four punches later, and the cloud lost cohesion and began to disperse.
“You just punched a mustard gas cloud to death?!” I asked, incredulous.
Terry spun and fired a rocket at the now visible zombies that had been hiding in the cloud. The ones standing right next to Burin and only a few feet from Gregor. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I knew he wasn’t. He was just acting on instinct.
Burin just took the explosion, and the zombie next to him died in a puff of gas that seared his skin.
A few moments later, the zombies were destroyed and I turned my attention back to the barn. Emily had walked inside and was gently holding the manticore, who was glaring at everyone outside, coiled and ready to strike if any of us tried to approach her daughter.
“Play her song, Papa,” Emily said to Terry. “It should calm her down.”
“Okay,” Terry said nervously, putting away his rocket launcher and pulling out his guitar. He strummed several notes, and my jaw hit the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Burin asked me.
“I know that song,” I said. It was one of Daddy’s favorites.
Terry was nervous and hit a wrong note, causing the manticore to growl, startling him and causing him to lose his concentration. It was obvious. He was terrified that the woman he loved was right there and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to talk to her. I pulled out my phone. “Cortana,” I said. “Play the instrumental of ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ by Bon Jovi.”
The music began to play and the manticore began swaying slightly to the music. Her body, which had been tensed and ready to strike, began to relax as she listened. But most notably, her eyes stopped glowing, revealing the deep hazel hidden below the light. She blinked and looked at her daughter.
“See, Momma,” Emily said. “They’re okay.” She reached out and touched the manticore, unconsciously casting a spell as she did so. The manticore’s shape warped and twisted, becoming the naked form of an incredibly beautiful woman. I was instantly turned on by the sight of her.
And she was WAY out of Terry’s league. I’m not sure if I’d say she or I were more attractive, but it was close. If I weren’t married, I’d definitely be trying to seduce her. Hell, I was wondering if Greta would be up for some extra company as it was.
She looked directly at us, shock in her eyes. “Terry?” she asked.
“Persephone…” he breathed, his voice quavering as he spoke.
Before she could respond, Emily smiled and fainted. Gregor was there in an instant, catching her before she fell. She had overexerted herself using magic she was unfamiliar with. And as Emily lost consciousness, Persephone disappeared.
Gregor brought Emily over to Terry. “Here,” he said. “I must see what furs in there I can salvage. Most of them are burned.” He seemed pretty annoyed by that, glaring at both of us as Terry took the girl from him.
“Are you okay?” I asked Terry as Burin went to help Gregor.
“I will be,” he said. “Somehow you’ve given them both back to me. Thank you.”
“Terry, there’s something I need to tell you…”
“What is it?” he asked.
I tried to steel myself to tell him about the possibility that Persephone was a demon, but I just couldn’t do it. I chickened out. “There is no way you deserved to marry a girl that hot,” I finally said.
“I know that better than most,” he said, laughing.
Gregor returned a few moments later, he was covered in blood. “You don’t normally get that messy skinning,” I pointed out.
“One of the beasts was with child,” he said. “I wanted to see if it was formed enough to have a skin.” He frowned. “It was not.”
Right. Wordlessly, I quickly cast a spell to clean him off. Burin returned
As we continued on, we heard a sound from a nearby building and went in to investigate. Inside, we encountered a kyton – creatures from the realm of shadows who believe pleasure and pain to be two halves of a glorious whole, making them natural sadomasochists – who had skinned nearly a dozen men and strung them up all over the room. I was really glad Emily wasn’t awake to see that. She spent the entire time we were in the building asleep just inside the door.
He wanted to make us his next victims, so we killed him first. Then we discovered that the men he’d been playing with were still alive, and even further beyond saving than the victims of the nosferatu had been. So we quickly killed them, to end their suffering.
We were just about to leave when the other three suddenly stopped. “What is it?” I asked.
Gregor held a finger to his lips, but Burin called out. “Hello?” he said, looking at a freestanding closet at the far side of the room. I thought I heard a muffled sound from within. Terry aimed his gun while Gregor and Burin cleared the debris away from the front of the closet’s door. Then Gregor swiftly pulled the door open, revealing the contents.
There were two people inside, a young woman of about sixteen or so dressed in a ruined lacy dress, and a boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen dressed in a child sized military dress uniform. I gasped when I saw them. I knew those faces.
Daddy was going to flip when I told him about this.
** spoiler omitted **
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** spoiler omitted **
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But how? I wasn’t sure. Should I talk to them? I mean, pretty girls are usually less threatening, especially when we considered the other three I’d been traveling with. They were covered in blood and were either frightening looking or so inept at social interaction as to be likely to inadvertently appear to be a truly terrifying monster just by accident.
But that was discounting our newest party member. There was one person who could be less threatening than me. “Terry,” I said. “Wake up Emily. There’s someone I want her to meet.”
He looked at me quizzically, but apparently decided that I knew what I was doing. He went over to where Emily was resting. He gently nudged her. “Hey, time to wake up,” he said. She stirred, but remained asleep. Considering it further, he pulled out a piece of cake from his guitar case, unwrapped the muslin cloth around it and held it before her nose. She sniffed and awoke, immediately taking a bite and getting frosting all over her chin.
“What happened?” Emily asked, her mouth full.
I was carefully keeping an eye on the scared kids, and realized their interest in the cake was overwhelming their fear, if only slightly. Excellent. Good job, Terry. “Do you have any more cake?” I asked.
Terry realized what I was getting at and rooted through his stuff, eventually pulling a couple pieces of cake and holding them out to Burin. The dwarf grabbed them and brought them over. He approached, his posture completely non-threatening as he did so, and held the cake out for the kids. The boy snatched it from his hand and shared it with his older sister, eyeing us warily as he did so.
I gave them a moment, then called Emily over. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
She took the cloth Terry held out and wiped her face, then came to me. “Who are they?” she asked.
“Princess Emily of Melos,” I said, having done a little research on my phone as I waited, “it is my pleasure to introduce you to Tsarevich Alexei and Grand Duchess Anastasia, the prince and princess of this land.” To save having to repeat myself in multiple languages, I had Nebula say it so everyone would understand it at the same time. “Alexei and Anastasia, this is Emily, princess and probable heir to the kingdom of Melos.” If they asked, I would tell them that Melos was an island nation that was near Greece. Thankfully, they never asked. And they took the talking cat in stride.
“I’m sorry,” Alexei said. “My sister is still upset by what happened to us. Is it possible you have more of that cake? We haven’t eaten in so long.”
Burin carried over an entire cake that Terry had produced. He then spoke to them in Aquan, startling the kids. “He says hello,” Nebula explained.
“Is there something wrong with him?” Alexei asked.
Terry just laughed at the question. “We definitely don’t have long enough to sit around and give you an enumerated list,” he said.
Anastasia was still pretty scared eyeing the corpse of the kyton warily, as if it would get up and come after them again. Emily finally noticed the corpse – she’s seen a lot in her short life, apparently – and looked at it confused. “What is that?” she asked. “Did Dad kill it?” She turned to the kids and asked Nebbie to translate. “I’m sorry. My dad and his friends are good at murderizing things. So you’re safe, unless you’re an evil demon. If you are, they’ll probably kill you too. But you don’t seem like demons, so you’re probably okay.”
Terry looked proud at the way Emily had both reassured and threatened the kids simultaneously. “Are you guys okay? Were there more of these things? If there are, we can kill them too.”
Oh yeah. Killing things. “Hey, um, so we still need to go find that goat.”
Terry flinched. “Hey, Emily, can you call out your mom again?” He turned to me. “I need to talk to my Lion-Wife.” It was pretty obvious he was trying to put off going after the goat.
“I’m not sure,” Emily answered. “But I’ll try.”
“I can help,” I said. “Let’s do it outside so we don’t have to make another hole in the building to get her outside.” I then had a thought. “But before that, I’m gonna set up the box. Burin and Gregor, see about some new clothes for the kids? It’s fairly cold out and they won’t be comfortable in what they’re wearing.”
“I will make sure they are warm,” Gregor agreed. “We have all those new skins.”
“Keep an eye on him and make sure they don’t come out looking like yeti-skin eskimos,” I whispered to Nebbie. “And make sure they’re careful. The boy’s a hemophiliac.” The cat nodded.
I stepped just outside with Emily and Terry, keeping in the doorway so I wouldn’t go out of reach of Nebula. “What do I do?” Emily asked.
“Calm your thoughts, and focus your mind,” I told her. “The magic is part of your very being. Just reach within and pull at it, willing it to flow out. Call for your mother as you do so.”
It took a few minutes, but eventually the sleeping form of the manticore appeared before us. Terry walked over and began to wake her, the same way he had with Emily, though he did not need to resort to cake this time.
Persephone yawned and stretched. “Why am I a monster?” she asked, looking at her paws. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
Terry grabbed her face. “Percy, we’re in a bind. It’s mostly, but not entirely my fault. Here’s the short version.” He had her complete attention. “There’s a bad guy we’ve gotta kill. Our daughter is some kind of wizard now. And I have cake if you’re hungry.”
She took it in stride. Being married to Terry must have had its share of strange situations. “On a scale of one to ten, how f%$#ed are we?”
“Thirty two.”
“Well, s!!!.” She sighed. “Is Typhon here? Is he gonna help us?”
Well, that was an interesting thing to ask. Terry averted his eyes, not answering my gaze. “Um, no,” he answered softly. He looked desperate to change the subject.
“We’re going to turn you into a person again,” I interjected. I had been walking Emily through the process again as they were talking. “Go ahead, kiddo.”
Emily nodded and walked over to the manticore. “I don’t think this is gonna hurt, Momma, but it might. I’m sorry if it does.”
“It’s okay, baby,” she said. Emily carefully unleashed the spell and her form shimmered, becoming human once more. A very naked human. A very attractive naked human. Damn, Terry. You DO NOT deserve that. She finally noticed me. “Hi,” she said, approaching. “I’m Persephone, Terry’s wife. For some reason, I get the feeling I tried to eat you?”
My mind was still rather in the gutter. “You can eat me anytime,” I murmured.
“What?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, recovering. “I said it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re probably used to it, I guess. Weird things happen around Terry,” she admitted.
I laughed. “One of these days, I need to tell you about the cake and the tree.”
Terry choked. “Um, shouldn’t we get her some clothes? Not that I mind, but you’re probably cold, aren’t you, Percy?”
Persephone considered the situation for a moment. “Mom’s vision said that the castle of sand would lose a lion. I thought it was a metaphor.”
“I believe the creature is called a manticore, not a metaphor,” Gregor said from the doorway. He was holding some clothing for Persephone. “I figured you would need this.”
“That’s a good call,” I said. “But it’s just gonna tear when she transforms back. Unless…” I rooted around in my bag and pulled out a pair of bracers that would allow the clothing to be transformed. That would allow the clothes to be changed into something manticore appropriate when she changed.
“How are the kids?” Terry asked.
“They’re fine,” Gregor answered. He sighed. “I need a new Barnaby.”
“We should probably prepare them for Percy’s other appearance,” Terry said. “I’ll go.”
I walked Emily through turning Persephone back so the clothes change could be done consciously rather than rip when she wasn’t ready for it. Then I went inside. “Okay, they’re ready,” I said, putting the box away.
“Okay,” Terry agreed. “Now remember, she looks scary, but she’s very nice.”
“Just don’t make any sudden movements,” Gregor joked. Terry scowled at him.
When we went outside, Emily was giggling as she swung from Persephone’s scorpion tail. Burin was watching, telling her to be careful so she didn’t fall and hurt herself. He looked strangely comfortable at the role. His family was supposed to be pretty large, so I’d bet he had siblings or something.
Emily and Alexei ended up riding on Persephone’s back, with Alexei in the front. They were chatting as if they were old friends, using Nebbie to translate while they rode. Anastasia walked with Gregor between her and the manticore.
“So, you’re going to be the king, even though you’re younger?” Emily was asking.
“It’s how things work,” Alexei answered. “How do you not know that? Aren’t you also a princess?”
“I didn’t find out until a little while ago. Speaking of which… Momma, why didn’t you tell me you were a princess?”
Persephone turned to Terry. “How much did you tell her?”
“It wasn’t me,” Terry said. “She found out from the magic mirror. Blame Lyriana.”
Persephone didn’t ask what he meant. I had a feeling she was going to have a lot of questions later. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be a princess. I wanted to be a hero.”
“Oh, okay,” Emily said. “Is Dad a hero too?”
Terry laughed. “Nope. I like killing people too much to be a hero.”
At that moment, there was a sound of gunfire and Burin took a bullet to the face. He sprouted his wings and flew into the fray, slaying the offending soldier. Gregor spun, flinging his hat and killing two more soldiers. Terry fired from the hip, killing another soldier, and I struck yet one more with several spiky balls of force.
All in all, we barely reacted. Alexei thought that was pretty cool, but Anastasia and Persephone were weirded out, though I could tell that Anastasia was impressed by Gregor’s throwing and catching his hat-shield. “Is it always like this?” Anastasia asked nervously.
“No,” Gregor said. “Sometimes it actually gets exciting.”
“Oh, are you from here?”
“Not exactly,” Gregor admitted with a chuckle.
“Are you a soldier?”
“No, a monk,” he said.
“You don’t dress like a monk,” Anastasia said.
“Wrong kind of monk,” I clarified. “Think more like a Chinese monk.” It would make things easier if she understood better.
“Oh!” she said, understanding. She then began asking him about what it was like growing up in the monastery.
I motioned for Terry to come over. “Hey, so how long are you planning on waiting before you tell her about the whole body thing?”
Terry blanched. “I was thinking a few years. Or maybe never? I like never.”
I noticed that Persephone was watching us out of the corner of her eye. Crap. I hoped she hadn’t noticed. “If people are going to be shooting,” she said, “Maybe it would be best if we got the kids down instead of up where they’re easy targets?”
“Right,” Terry said. “Oh, and you should probably know standard combat procedure. Gregor will punch things. I’ll shoot things. Lyriana will light things on fire. And somehow Burin will end up in something’s mouth.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how. But you can count on it.”
She looked to Burin, who shrugged as the wound on his cheek healed thanks to a poke from a magic wand. “It does keep happening for some reason,” the dwarf admitted.
The camp where we’d been told we’d find the goat began looming close, and Terry stopped to pull out his rocket launcher. “What is that?” Persephone asked.
“It’s a bigger gun. You can’t be too careful when it comes to goats.”
“Goats?”
“They’re dangerous,” Terry answered, completely serious.
“You’ve changed,” Persephone said. “What happened to you?”
“He did have that encounter with the warden,” Burin said, thinking aloud.
“Hush, you,” Terry chided.
The camp was surprisingly empty, but we spotted the goat standing in a small corral, chewing on something or other. A lantern was hanging from its neck. Definitely a Lantern Goat. All we’d need to do is kill the goat, take its lantern and go find the body. Then the guy could be brought back to life and we’d be able to use his help to get into that ghostly looking monastery.
Or, at least, that had been the plan. No sooner did she spot the goat than Persephone’s eyes glazed over and she immediately charged. Before any of us – even Terry – could react, the goat was gone, disappeared down her throat. After she was done, she just looked at us, her expression telling us she was completely confused as to why she’d just done that.
“If you were hungry, you could have just said something,” Terry said with a laugh. “Though I approve of you taking out the goat before it could take us out.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Persephone answered. “I… don’t know what came over me. It was like my will wasn’t my own.” That was odd. Why would she feel like that? Maybe because the goat was carrying a soul and she was probably part demon?
I don’t know. But that left us a problem. “We need that lantern,” I said.
“Perhaps there are berries nearby that will make things move along?” Gregor suggested.
“Maybe we could just reach in there and fish it out?” Terry suggested. “As long as it’s definitely already dead, I mean.”
“It feels like it’s further than you could reach already,” Persephone said. It was obvious she didn’t like that idea.
“Then we’ll send someone in, tied off with a rope.”
“Terry? What happened to you?” she asked again.
“He hasn’t been the same since he took that teleporter ride with Hatch,” Gregor answered.
“Quiet. It can work,” Terry said. “If only we could make her bigger…”
“I think I can do that,” Emily said. “If we really need the goat.”
“Good,” Terry said. “Now we just need a volunteer. Someone who has experience being eaten.” He was obviously talking about Burin, as he was looking directly at the dwarf.
Burin sighed. “Okay. I’ll go.”
As I was helping Emily prepare to enlarge her mother, I heard Gregor whisper to Terry. “Are you sure you want your wife to develop a taste for Burin?
“Everything else does.” He then walked over to Persephone. “Okay, Emily’s gonna make you bigger and Burin’s going down your throat to pull out the goat.”
“Do I not have a choice in this?” she asked.
“Not really. If you didn’t want to swallow the dwarf, you shouldn’t have eaten the goat.” He said it as if it were obvious to everyone that that would be the consequence.
“Terry, what happened to you?” Persephone repeated.
“There was that one time with the skeletons,” Burin said. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Maybe something from before I’d met them.
“Hush. Let’s do this.”
I’ll spare most of the details, as it was fairly disturbing to watch. That said, there was a strange look of ecstasy on Persephone’s face when Burin touched her tongue, and she looked sad when we pulled him out. Wordlessly, I used magic to clean all the drool and other fluids off of Burin. And then turned to deal with the real problem.
A bloody, crushed corpse of a goat lay on the ground in front of the upset looking Persephone. It had a new hole in its head – Terry wanted to make sure it was dead – and Gregor was complaining that the skin was ruined. Anastasia and Alexei seemed strangely unfazed by what they’d seen.
And, most importantly, the lantern was shattered, the glow from the soul gone.
“That can’t be good,” Burin noted.
“Can we bring the guy back without that?” Gregor asked.
“Sorry,” Persephone said, clearly embarrassed.
I didn’t know. I was just done. Exhaustion hit me finally and I just sat down. Too exhausted, I couldn’t even cry. Was that the end? Were we done? Was there no way to get to Baba Yaga and save the world?
“I wish Daddy was here,” I pouted. Then it hit me. I didn’t have him here, but I had an entire library of information he thought would be useful to me in my pocket. I pulled out my phone. “Cortana, is there any information on how to get into that monastery?” I asked, showing her with the phone’s camera.
The phone ran a loading cursor for a moment and then a paperclip with googly eyes appeared on the screen. “It looks like you’re trying to stabilize an interdimensional rift. Would you like assistance?” the clip asked.
“Um, yes, please,” I answered.
“The following document details all steps necessary, as well as the tools you will need. Would you like to save the document for further reference?”
“Yes,” I said. I breathed a sigh of relief. Even over a hundred years and half a world away, I could always count on Daddy. “Okay, we have a new plan. Let’s drop off Alexei and Anastasia at the hut with Greta and we’ll try dealing with this ourselves.”
“The magic mirror had an answer?” Terry asked.
“Yeah.”
“I love that mirror,” Terry said. “See, babe? It’s all good. You don’t have to feel bad anymore.” Persephone looked relieved. She’d apparently been really worried that she’d really messed things up.
We made our way to the hut – killing more soldiers, who had probably been the people living in the camp, as we traveled. It only took twenty minutes, so that wasn’t too bad.
There were a number of destroyed tanks sitting around the hut. Apparently it had been busy while we were gone, picking at least three different fights. Strange that Rasputin would believe that mere tanks could take on his mother’s enchanted house. I mean, maybe Daddy could build some tanks that could do it, but these were ancient models from World War One. There was no way they could handle it.
The hut eyed us as we approached, but recognized us pretty quickly. One by one, it checked us out. It greeted us more or less indifferently for the most part. Then it was time to introduce it to the new arrivals. First was Persephone. The hut regarded her with the normal indifference. Then came Anastasia. It leaned in and sniffed at her – at least, I think that’s what it was doing – and then nuzzled her warmly. Strange.
But we didn’t have time to think about it. Because the hut’s reaction to Alexei was the exact opposite. It immediately stood up and well, growled, maybe? I tried to get it to calm down, and the others insisted that we go inside, but then the hut reared up and kicked the boy as hard as he could.
Alexei went flying through the woods. I could hear the sharp crack as a tree shattered from his impact. There was no way he survived that. Not as frail as the boy was said to be. Still, Burin rushed over to help him and Emily teleported – she was getting good at accessing her magic when she needed it in a rush – over to help him. Persephone flew off after her.
Terry hit the hut in the foot with his rocket launcher. No, not firing it. He just smacked it in the foot with the device itself. “Bad!” he said.
The hut ignored him, and was obviously agitated, so Gregor ran up the side and began trying to restrain it. I will never understand the logic of these two. “Should I just punch it til it calms down?” the fighter asked.
“Maybe we can have the box make a giant bag for you to put it in so you can forget to feed it for a few days?” Terry suggested.
“Don’t put a dimensionally compressed object into another!” Burin chided from out in the woods. He wasn’t wrong. That could get explosive.
I heard a roar from the woods near where Burin and the others were. No, not one roar. It was three distinct roars. “Momma! No! Don’t hurt him!” I heard Emily scream. What the hell was going on? “The monster did this to him!”
Terry turned and fired into the woods in that direction. His rocket hit a tree between him and whatever he was aiming at, exploding harmlessly. Well, maybe not harmlessly. Burin made a sound like he was hit. But it was Burin. He was fine.
I had to know. What was there? I flew up into the sky like a bolt.
There was a giant, three headed dragon over there, and I could see Persephone carrying a struggling Emily away. The girl was protesting that she loved Alexei and no one understood him but her. I’d had a friend go through that phase in high school. I almost laughed.
Gregor could see the dragon from his vantage point. He looked down at Anastasia. “Hey, is your brother supposed to be a dragon?” he asked.
That was the straw that broke the poor girl’s sanity. She began gibbering. “It’s a gorynych!” I called to the fighter, weaving a spell to hit it with an explosion of acid. “You need to keep hitting it with acid!”
Gregor flexed his fists. “Easy enough!” He charged down the side of the hut, teleporting just before hitting the ground and arriving where “Alexei” was fighting Burin. The dragon went down to a powerful flurry of Gregor’s blows.
It took only moments before Gregor was already skinning it. Terry went to help Persephone with Emily while I dealt with Anastasia. I was forced to put her to sleep and left her with Burin while I went to check on the Guisers.
Emily was screeching at her parents for killing Alexei. “That wasn’t really Alexei,” I told her. “That was a special kind of dragon. They use magic to warp the minds of those they want to control.” I looked at Persephone. “I think that’s why you attacked the goat. He must have clouded your mind.”
“That makes me feel better, and worse at the same time.” She tried to comfort Emily, who pushed her away.
I nodded. “And Emily, he used magic to make you fall in love with him.” Gorynych were known to voraciously chase down and bed young maidens. She was too young for that kind of thing, so I’m glad the hut caught him. Which brought up another thing. “Terry, don’t forget to apologize to the hut for hitting it.”
“It’s not like I actually hurt it.”
“Terry…” Persephone said, pained.
“Fine,” he pouted. “Oh, and we need a longer lasting solution if we’re gonna take Percy inside. I don’t think we want her growing huge inside the hut.”
I nodded. “The box will have an option if you have the funds.” I began setting it up while Persephone took Terry to make sure he apologized. I sat down next to the crying Emily. “You okay?”
“I know it was a lie,” she said. “But it still hurts.”
“Welcome to being a teenager,” I told her. “Come on. Let’s dry those eyes. Your parents look worried about you.”
“Do you think they hate me? I said some really mean things to Momma.”
“Hate you? Never. Look, this isn’t the last time you’ll act like a little monster to your parents. And boys will usually be involved. They’ll never hate you. It’s important that you remember that. They will always love you, no matter what you do. They might not LIKE you sometimes. But they will always love you, no matter how much you fight.”
She hugged me. “Did you fight with your parents?” she asked.
“All the time. Daddy was a master at letting me make myself look like an idiot. Now go tell them you’re sorry.”
She did as she was told and then we made Persephone a magic hat similar in function to the amulet Greta wears. When she transformed, it became a tiara. It was rather cute.
After that, we had Gregor wrap up his skinning and we went inside. I had Burin put Anastasia on my bed. Then we went back out to the main room, where I saw Emily and Greta talking. “So you are fine, after all, child,” Greta was saying.
“Fine. And a princess,” Emily responded, her tone confrontational, or perhaps gloating.
Greta shrugged. “Whether you were a princess or not, I was not concerned.”
The Coffin Man laughed. “Is that why you were halfway out the door when your cute wife called you?”
Greta shot him a withering look. “I was simply going outside to see if the naughty child was hiding.”
“Right.”
Greta changed the subject. “Who is this woman?” she asked, regarding Persephone.
“This is my wife,” Terry said. “Emily’s mom.”
“Strange that you would find her on a world so far from your own and back in time.”
“Emily summoned her.”
“I’m a princess AND a wizard,” Emily said, sticking her tongue out at Greta when she thought no one was looking.
“Hello,” Persephone said, holding out her hand to shake Greta’s before realizing her mistake after noticing the missing limb. “Sorry,” she said, holding out the other hand.
“It is fine,” Greta said. “I have become used to it. Though I will one day find Typhon Lee and return the favor, tearing HIS arm off before beating him to death with it.”
“Why would Typhon do this to…” Persephone turned to Terry. “Terry, where’s Toby?”
“He’s somewhere warm,” Terry said evasively. “Even I’m not stupid enough to bring a baby somewhere as dangerous as this.” He laughed nervously.
“Terry…”
“Okay, can we talk in private?”
They went into Terry’s room, having to kick out Zorka who was complaining about the untidiness of the room, emphasizing something about cake stains. As they did so, I went into my room to pull out my phone and eavesdrop.
Greta followed me in. “You fancy Terry’s wife,” she said lovingly.
I set down my phone. “I do find her attractive,” I admitted. “But I’m not going to pursue her.”
Greta cocked her head. “Why not?”
Wait, what? “I’m confused. You want me to cheat?”
She hugged me. “Despite the fact that you’re clearly in heat, I have been unable to impregnate you. Thus, I have resolved myself to the realization that one or both of us will be required to lay with some other man so we can have children. So thus, I have come to terms with the thought that you will lie with someone other than me. As long as you return to me every time, I can live with it.”
“I’m in heat?”
“Your scent is screaming it,” Greta said. “Your body is shouting as loudly as it can that it is ready for someone to reproduce with you.”
“Oh.” I forget how good her sense of smell is.
“By the way, what’s up with the girl in our bed?”
“I need you to keep an eye on her,” I said.
“She will not disappear on me?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “But no promises at this point.”
“Who is she?”
“Another princess,” I said.
“Fun.”
“Also, there might be more.” It was only a suspicion. But I couldn’t help but voice it. “In the future, there are rumors that the queen had an affair with a spiritual advisor of hers. There are even songs about it. It’s not impossible that she’s his daughter.”
“Who is this spiritual advisor? You sound as if it’s important.”
“It might be. His name is Rasputin. And he’s Baba Yaga’s son.”
“Then she’s…?”
“Baba Yaga’s granddaughter? Yeah, maybe.”
“I will keep her safe.”
“Thanks, babe. Now, I hope I haven’t missed anything important.” I picked up the phone and activated my backdoor program, listening in on the next room through Terry’s phone.
“Terry,” Persephone said. “Just tell me what’s going on. And why was that woman so mad at Typhon? He’d never do something like that.”
“Typhon’s… not our friend anymore.”
“Why not? He’s always been so good to us. He’s kept us safe. He kept my family away from us.”
“Percy, you’ve been dead for three years. It was Typhon’s men that killed you.”
“That can’t be right,” Persephone argued. “You’re wrong. It had to have been my father.”
“No, but he does have a bounty on Emily, apparently. Or so Pops says.”
“So I died. I still don’t think it was Typhon, but okay. Then you’ve been taking care of the kids while I was gone?” She sighed. “I’ve missed so much. Where’s Toby?”
Terry took a deep breath. “Percy. You… and Toby… and well, Emily too… you didn’t exactly survive when Typhon’s men came.”
“Explain faster.” Her tone was dangerous.
“Okay, long story short. I took a job to kill Typhon. But I didn’t check the body. He was still alive. He was mad, so his men killed you, kicked Toby into the fire, killed Emily and then he personally shoved my soul into Emily’s corpse.”
I could hear pacing. “Why would you betray him like that?!” Persephone ranted. “What could have possibly possessed you to do that?! He was like a father to us!”
“Your sister found me,” Terry said softly. “She gave me an ultimatum. Kill Typhon or she’d bring your father’s entire army to kill you and take the kids. So I had to choose between killing the dragon or facing down an entire army. I did what I thought was best to protect you.” He sounded ashamed.
“HECATE!” Persephone said softly, her voice filled with rage. There was a sound of struggling, as if she was trying to hit Terry in a rage, but he had restrained her.
“It’s okay, Percy. You’re not alone,” Terry assured her.
I could hear her crying. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m not human anymore. But I have you, and Emily.”
“Yes.”
“And she’s magic, like Mom. If she died, how did she come back? And what about Toby?”
“Lyriana helped. It took a lot of money. But now she’s back. And Lyriana thinks we can bring back Toby, but it’s gonna take a lot of work, and probably some very expensive magic.”
“I’ll be sure to thank her later.”
“She’s a good kid. Both her and Gregor.”
“What about Burin?”
“Well, I guess he’s better than Pops,” Terry admitted grudgingly.
Persephone laughed. “He did manage to get inside me, so he’s certainly got that on Pops.”
“That tiara looks cute on you,” Terry said after a moment. “You want to have sex?”
“Okay.” Ooh, now it was getting good. “You look bigger than I remember.”
“Lyriana sculpted me a new body. She probably had to guess since it’s not like I showed her what I looked like naked.”
“I’ll definitely have to thank her later.” Oh, I could think of a way for her to thank me.
Greta took the phone from my hand and turned it off. “Hey! It was just getting good!” I complained.
“If you have time to listen…” she said suggestively, kissing me. Oh.
But there was a problem. “Anastasia’s right there,” I protested.
“Then you’ll have to be quiet so you don’t wake her.”
I guess we could spare half an hour.
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{. . .}
The phone ran a loading cursor for a moment and then a paperclip with googly eyes appeared on the screen. “It looks like you’re trying to stabilize an interdimensional rift. Would you like assistance?” the clip asked.
{. . .}
Nooooooooo! Not the Microsoft Office Assistant! I always suspected Kyle had an evil side . . . .
Yeah, I thought someone would get a kick out of that. :P
Speaking of Kyle, Isekai Quartet is really making me want to revive my "Runelords High School" project that I've been playing around with for a while.
It might be something to work on when I have weeks where I finish the write up early.
"Runelords High School" brings to mind 3 possibilities:
1. (Most straightforward) A high school group playing one of the Runelords APs.
2. (More devious) High schoolers have to go up against the Runelords.
3. (Most devious) A campaign exploring the Runelords' high school years . . . .
"Runelords High School" brings to mind 3 possibilities:
1. (Most straightforward) A high school group playing one of the Runelords APs.
2. (More devious) High schoolers have to go up against the Runelords.
3. (Most devious) A campaign exploring the Runelords' high school years . . . .
4. (Actual Idea) Me writing up a high school comedy/drama with characters from our Runelords playthrough as the students/teachers. Aurora is a high school student athlete(equestrian or jousting club, maybe). Kyle, Lenn and Geo are teachers(Lenn teaches Home Ec, btw). Ameiko, Aldern and several others are Aurora's classmates. Karzoug is the principal at a rival school. And it's a strange, schizo world with Earth level tech but people from both Earth and Golarion. You know, that kind of thing.
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“Of course,” I answered. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us. Terry told me how you brought back Emily. I don’t know how I can repay you.” I could think of a few ways. “Also, I wanted to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“Knowing Terry, I’m pretty sure he’s threatened, or maybe even attempted, to kill you at least once. So, I’m sorry for that.”
Ah, that. “It’s fine. He’s obviously pretty paranoid. One of these days, I’m really gonna have to tell you all about him and the warden.” She gave me a confused look. “It’s a long story. In his defense, his body was going through puberty, or at least, I’m pretty sure that was part of that. Speaking of which, you might want to talk with Emily. I did what I could to help Terry deal with it, but I don’t think anyone’s spoken to Emily about the changes her body will be going through.”
Persephone laughed. “I’m sure Terry hasn’t said anything about it to her. I’ll take some time to talk with her.” She sighed. “I’ve missed so much.”
“You have time to make up for it now,” I said, giving her a comforting hug. I absolutely wasn’t copping a feel. I was being nice.
“Thanks,” she said. “By the way, I was hoping I could speak with Greta?”
Greta walked over to where Persephone could see her. “Yes?” she asked.
“Well, it’s just… you’re a Winter Wolf, right?”
Greta nodded. “I am. What of it?”
“It’s just, I was hoping you could help me. When I’m turned into the manticore, I feel like there are two parts of me. I have my monster side, which feels fierce and angry. Then I have my human side, which is horrified by that part of me. I fear I haven’t been as effective in combat because of it.”
Greta looked puzzled. “I do not have that strange dichotomy. I would suggest that you stop fighting your nature. Your instincts for combat will be your strength. Do not fight them. Relish the power of your body.”
“I see…” Persephone said, considering it. “Thanks. Perhaps we can practice and you can show me how to fight with my natural weapons sometime?”
“That could be fun. I’ve probably been getting fat sitting around here.”
“Only in the best places,” I said, nuzzling my wife’s neck.
“Thank you,” Persephone said, this time reaching out the correct hand to shake Greta’s remaining arm. Greta reached out to take her hand, but Persephone suddenly disappeared. I looked over and saw Emily asleep at the table, a fork full of cake in her hand.
Laughing, I pulled up my phone and checked to see if the plans were complete for what we’d need to stabilize the monastery so we could get in. The weird googly-eyed paperclip informed me that it had been finished.
I sat the others down and explained to them what we would need to do. Basically, it was pretty simple. The clip – Clippy, it called itself – had calculated out where the devices would be, so we didn’t even need to figure that out for ourselves. Then all we had to do was get there, plant the device and move to the next. Once they were all done, I would just tell Clippy when we were ready to go in and it would take care of the rest.
I’m not sure how the devices would work, exactly. I know nanites were involved somehow. And something about spooky quantum stuff. The word muons was in there too. Look, I’m not a physics person. My nerd-level study of things stops at magic. I can write a doctoral level paper on the differences between the schools of magic. I can create new spellforms from scratch to do things I need – obviously this takes a lot of time and work – but I don’t know quantum physics from a hole in the ground. Maybe it’s something I’ll have to learn eventually. But give me a break, I’m far too young to be that knowledgeable about more than one subject, no matter how much Daddy says I could do it if I tried.
For their parts, the guys understood the mission. “So we fight to the marked buildings, push this little box onto these world anchors and press the button?” Gregor asked.
“That’s pretty much it,” I affirmed.
“Question, will explosions nearby damage the anchors or these devices?” Terry asked.
I posed the question to Clippy. “Both the World Anchors and the quantum stabilization bridges are made to withstand a theoretical blast of fourteen megatons or more at point blank range,” came the answer. Fourteen megatons? I wasn’t sure how that ranked exactly on the hierarchy, but we were talking nuclear bomb magnitudes of energy.
“It should be fine,” I told the others. No need to explain the finer points of nuclear warfare to them. It was already getting late again, and we needed to get moving.
“Okay, cool,” Terry said. “I’ve been reading up on some of the cool stuff your people make and it sounds like a lot of it is pretty delicate.”
I nodded. “Fair enough,” I said. “Any other questions?”
“That’s really all we have to do?” Burin asked. “Dealing with magic of this nature is really complex. It seems too simple.”
“It’s pretty complicated, actually,” I said. “It’s just that the box has made devices that do the hard part for us. If you want, you can have Clippy explain what it’s doing to you.”
“I might do that,” he said. “How long before we go?”
I looked at the sleeping Emily. “Let’s give her twenty more minutes, then we should get going.”
We fought our way through the work camp around the monastery once more. We took out another group of snipers. The highlights of that fight include Gregor catching a bullet, Terry killing two of them nearly simultaneously firing from the hip while chatting with Persephone and Burin flying high into the air and doing a falling axe slash on “the one wearing the red cap”, which ended up covering my shoes in blood.
At another point, we were ambushed by another group of yetis who were growling and snarling at us. Gregor did kind of a flash step thing so he could kill as many as possible before Terry had a chance to ruin the skins.
And then Nebbie told us what they had been saying. Apparently, the other yetis we’d killed had been their mates, and they were out for revenge. I felt kind of bad about that. Gregor and Terry didn’t seem to care. Burin… well, his response was, “They said all of that with a few grunts and snarls? The subtleties of language never cease to amaze me.”
And then we got attacked by some crazy lady in the weirdest spiked armor. I mean, it was seriously hideous. I mean, socks and sandals level bad. Yet Gregor seemed interested in figuring out how to create a new fighting style that utilized something like that. He figured he could kill enemies just by somersaulting at them. Weirdo.
And don’t even get me started on the bleeding stone golems. No, I mean literally bleeding. The damn things had stigmata. WHO MAKES SOMETHING LIKE THAT?
And, while I’m ranting about things… why did Terry and Gregor feel the need to light EVERYTHING on fire? Even Persephone noticed. “Is it always like this?” she asked.
“No,” Burin answered. “Sometimes, there’s no logic behind what they do. Don’t worry though. The rest of us are normal.” And then he opened a nearby door, peeked his head inside and shouted, “Hello?!” into the dark room. Part of me kinda wishes something large had bitten him for that.
We approached the front of the monastery just after nightfall, and the ghostly image of Rasputin appeared before us. Terry immediately, and possibly reflexively, flung a blini at him. It sailed right through his incorporeal image. The Mad Monk looked annoyed. “I can’t hit him,” Terry said. “Anyone else want to try?”
“It’s not good to waste food,” Burin chided.
Rasputin ignored our insanity. “You have proven yourselves dangerous fighters. But I grow stronger as my mother grows weaker. In a short while, I will be unstoppable! And there’s nothing you can do about it! Primitives like you will never reach me, because you could never comprehend the genius of the great Tesla, and Radimir made sure you’ll never resurrect Miloslav!” He began to laugh as he gloated, certain in his superiority.
I was rather annoyed. I’d been dealing with my friends’ b~*%*#&@ all day. I wasn’t dealing with Rasputin’s as well. “First,” I said, “We have your daughter.” I wasn’t certain, but it was a bluff worth playing.
And it paid off. “I will take her back shortly, once I have taken my mother’s throne. Which you will never st-“
“AND SECOND,” I said, pulling out my phone as I interrupted him. “Cortana, do it now.” Primitives? I WOULD SHOW HIM WHO WAS PRIMITIVE. He had the knowledge of Tesla on his side. I had the knowledge of Kyle O’Halloran on mine. We would see who had the last laugh.
Nothing happened for a second. Then there was a crackle of electricity as purple lightning arced from the World Anchors to the ghostly monastery. “THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!” Rasputin shrieked. “You’re primitives from one of Mother’s little project worlds! There’s no way you can defy the technology of Earth!”
“You’ve miscalculated,” I said, grinning as the monastery completely stabilized before us.
“KILL THEM!” he roared.
Three figures came out of the door to the monastery. Burin charged to intercept. “Keep your minds focused! They’re nosferatu!” he warned as he slashed at the one at the fore. Terry fired over his head and embedded four bullets in the vampire’s skull, killing it as my fireball scorched the other two.
One of the remaining nosferatu, shocked at his comrade’s fall, sped past Burin and pointed at Terry. “Kill that witch!” he commanded, pointing at me as the third attacked Burin.
Oh, crap.
Persephone transformed into a manticore and did what she could to get between me and Terry, whose eyes had glazed over as his mind lost the fight with the vampire’s domination. “Get the vampire!” she told Gregor.
Gregor nodded and quickly dropped the dominating vampire. Rasputin cast two spells, first ordering Gregor to attack us – he resisted – and then zapping Burin with powerful necromantic magic – he did not resist, and I could see him in a ton of pain.
With the vampire down, Terry barely managed to resist the ongoing command and narrowly missed shooting Persephone as the gun went off while he swung it towards the ground. Whew. That was close.
Persephone wasn’t taking a chance and tried to grasp him with her tail, but he managed to dodge. “Percy! It’s fine!” he shouted.
Gregor dashed forward, teleporting to help Burin. The two of them dropped the final vampire in seconds. Rasputin, shocked by our capacity for violence, tried finishing off Burin, but cast the wrong spell, leaving him barely alive. Burin smirked. “I’m okay,” he reassured us.
Rasputin growled. “You think you’ve won?! I still have an edge! On this world, only people who are from here can invite in the denizens of other planes. I’ve made a pact with a Szuriel, the Horseman of War, in preparation for my ascendance to power! She has agreed to provide me with armies for my glorious conquest of innumerable planets! I cannot use them here, as the god of this place will protect the natives from outsiders, but you’re not from here and he won’t lift a finger to help you!”
He raised his hand and several hundred daemons – genthodaemons, the foot soldiers of Abaddon’s armies – appeared around us. We might have been in trouble. But then I saw a glow, that appeared to be coming from my forehead. “Lyriana?” Burin asked. “Why is there a glow that looks like two perpendicular lines on your forehead?”
“That is the mark where the priest anointed her forehead with the Oil of Catechumens during her baptism,” a voice said. There was an angel standing next to me. It was a powerful one – a planetar, the generals of celestial armies. “It marks her as a native of this world, though I must admit, I cannot find her on our rolls. Nor can I find the resonance of the soul of the priest who anointed her.”
“That’s a long story,” I said. “I haven’t been born yet. And I don’t think he has either.”
“What?” the angel asked.
“We came here through some weird time travel via the Dancing Hut of Baba Yaga.”
The angel considered my words. “I see. I am willing to accept that, especially from one of such unparalleled beauty.” I found myself blushing. Mom had warned me that all angels would find me extremely attractive for some reason due to our family lineage, but it was weird having such a glorious being say so in person.
“Thank you,” I said meekly. I’ve been complimented and hit on by literally hundreds of people, but that might have been the first time I really felt embarrassed by it, at the very least since I was young girl. It was a new and weird feeling.
He drew a horn and blew it, causing an entire legion of Movanic Devas wielding great flaming swords to appear. “We cannot interfere in whatever it is that is transpiring between you mortals. But leave the daemons to us. This is Earth and they are not welcome here!” the great angel shouted, with the other angels roaring in agreement.
I thanked the massive angel with a kiss on the cheek – because when do you ever get a chance to do that? – and we headed inside. “Your planet is weird,” Terry said, once we were inside.
I couldn’t argue. It probably was, in the grand scheme of the cosmos.
Emily went over to Burin. “You don’t look too good,” she said to him.
“I’ve felt better,” the dwarf admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said, hugging him. Before my eyes, he began looking better. I think she had cast another spell without thinking about it. Terry grabbed out the nanite gun and injected him a couple times. He immediately began looking hale and hearty once more.
Before we left the vestibule, I cast a spell to surround myself with illusory copies. If Terry got mind controlled again, I wasn’t risking getting shot. Then we headed inside.
Well, it turns out that my paranoia paid off. We entered and faced off against a ghost. This particular entity was of a type known as a crucifixion spirit, and with a point of its finger, it ripped Terry’s soul from his body and began crucifying it.
So I hit it with a barrage of spiked balls of force. Which obviously irritated it, because it then pointed at me. Or, well, not me, but one of my doubles. So Lyriana one, crazy ghost zero. It didn’t get another chance because Gregor then punched the ghost to death. Or second death. However that works.
We healed up – Terry was pretty shaken – and moved deeper into the building, coming to some kind of chamber that had to have been beautiful once, but was terribly run down. There were alcoves along the walls with large statues of various saints. The only two I recognized were Boris and Gleb, but in my defense, it’s not like my parents raised me Russian Orthodox. I mean, we’re Roman Catholics, after all. Also, most of the statues were pretty worn down.
I looked up the room, noting cracks and dirt along the beautiful mosaic on the floor, but my eyes fixed on the form of someone seated in the corner. It was an old woman, sweat dripping from her brow and blood spattered all over her clothing.
“It’s about time you got here,” she said. “Your distraction was most timely. My fool of a son turned his back. I’d been waiting for that for days. Now be dears and help me up. I fear my ordeal has left me a bit weak. I am an old woman, after all.”
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As she did so, Burin walked over to help up Baba Yaga, helping her rest on what remained of a bench. We’d all just been staring at her – well, all but Emily – until he did so. “At least someone remembers his manners,” the old woman said, allowing the dwarf to help him up.
“I’m sorry,” Terry said. “It’s just, we weren’t expecting to find you until after we faced your son, is all.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. He got what was coming to him.”
“That’s great to hear. So, I was wondering, since we came all this way for you…” I was worried where this was going. “So, my daughter and this dwarf are entangled by some kind of magic and can’t go too far from each other. Do you think you can untangle their existence? I will personally be in your debt and will gladly spend my life repaying you after I slay my dragon. Unless you want to help me with that to speed it up, of course.” He flashed a smile and a thumbs up at Persephone.
As he talked, Gregor slid up next to me. “If this is the past, just how long could she have been here? Shouldn’t we have been able to get here just after she did?”
Daddy had once given me a three hour lecture on time travel. But I really don’t understand it, even then. “I’m not sure. The hut may have weird limitations where the time has passed as long here as it has in our time since the hut was last here. There’s no way to tell without getting information on when it last left and what day it is now. I think Cortana can figure out the latter for me based on the movement of the stars, but we have no data from the former.”
Gregor nodded, satisfied. “I see.”
Persephone saw Terry’s gesture and spoke up. “Don’t forget to ask about Toby,” she said.
“Oh, right, and if you could revive my dead son, that would be great too,” Terry said to Baba Yaga.
The witch laughed acerbically. “I believe we can come to an arrangement. But I will first need to get to the hut to heal my injuries and get supplies to work on it. Once I have determined the difficulty of what you ask, then will negotiations begin. Now, take me to the hut.”
“I want to see the body of Sergei’s killer first,” Gregor said.
“Do you not believe my word?” the old witch asked.
“Honor dictates that I see the corpse of the man who killed Sergei, so I may visit Sergei’s grave and tell him that he has been avenged, even if not by my hand.”
Baba Yaga sighed. “I can see that I will not dissuade you. Dwarf, be a dear and help me walk,” she said. Burin got under her arm and helped her stand. She rested her weight on him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Such a good boy,” she said. “Obedience to your elders is a virtue.” Few humans could say that to an adult dwarf, but she was definitely one of them.
“We also have this special gun which might help with your wounds,” Terry said. “It’s really effective at healing injuries. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but it has something to do with tiny machines.”
She seemed intrigued. “We can give it a try,” she said, beckoning him over.
Terry approached with the nanite gun in hand, ready to treat her wounds. As he prepared to inject her, there was a motion. It was nigh imperceptible and super-fast, but thankfully Terry caught it and managed to dodge back before Baba Yaga snatched the tool from his hand.
The movement betrayed the lie. She was neither old nor injured. In a simultaneous motion, Terry holstered the nanite gun and drew his rifle. He took aim and squeezed the trigger, but missed as the “old woman” bit his arm. “Dammit!” Terry cursed. “All old people are evil! You hear that Emily?”
“Yes, sir,” Emily said.
The old woman cast a spell, hitting Terry with necromantic energy and sapping his strength and simultaneously unleashed a spell that filled me with a sense of overwhelming despair. And I wasn’t the only one. “Her magic is too strong,” Burin wailed. “We’re all doomed since no one has the power to stop her.”
Persephone transformed into a manticore and moved in to help and Emily cast a spell to try to enflame our foe’s emotions and prevent her from focusing enough to cast, but it was resisted. I had to push pretty hard to overcome it with the force bolts I’d unleashed, so it was clear that the woman had resistance to magic.
And I knew why. As she’d cast, the glamour around the woman faded, revealing a terrible creature. She was an Erodaemon, a creature of Abaddon who personify death by heartbreak. And Gregor was definitely feeling heartbroken at the moment. “I knew he couldn’t be dead,” he said, half-heartedly striking at her with tears in his eyes.
Terry was clearly unaffected by the emotional manipulation. He was just seething with rage. “You shouldn’t have f~~#ed with my emotions!” he raged as he took aim. “That’s a one way ticket to pain town!” He squeezed the trigger and a bullet shot forth, straight through the daemon’s skull. She collapsed like a ton of bricks. “Machine of death!” Terry shouted before devolving into a fit of coughing from the necromantic attack he’d taken. There was blood on his hand from his injuries.
After the fight, Gregor was sitting with his head in his hands. “We struggled this much against her. How can we possible kill the man who would not die?”
Terry patted his shoulder. “Come now. Would Sergei be acting like a b#+##? No. He’d get up and fight. If he wasn’t dead, I mean.”
“Sergei did not get back up,” Gregor said, his head in his hands. Terry had no idea how to deal with that.
It took a few minutes for us to feel better as the magic faded. We were left with only one person feeling sad. “What’s wrong?” I asked Emily, who was pouting in the corner.
“It didn’t work,” she said. “I tried to use magic to make her angry, but it didn’t work!”
I hugged the girl. “Some enemies are resistant to magic. You’re still learning. I’ll teach you more about how to push past that when we have time.”
“Feeling better?” Persephone asked both of us.
Emily nodded. “I just need practice,” she said. “Dad was pretty cool, though.”
Persephone laughed. “He was, but sometimes I don’t know what I see in him. I have trouble telling if he’s a doofus or a psychopath.”
“Maybe he’s a doofopath?” Emily suggested. I had to fight not to laugh, because she looked completely serious.
Instead, I walked over to Burin. “How are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m okay now. But I was unable to think about anything but the future of my clan for a bit there,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Without the demon to contain, we’ll lose our position among our people. It will take time, but we’ll likely be destitute if we don’t find a solution.”
I hadn’t considered that. But I knew someone who would know what to do. “When we’re done here, we can talk to Daddy. If anyone can give you some good suggestions on how to keep your family from falling on hard times, it’s him. He’s amazing at making money.”
“That’s a load off of my mind,” Burin said. “We don’t mind hard work. It’s just that I have no idea what we could do. I worried that I might have doomed my entire clan.”
Persephone had snuck into the next room as we had wallowed in our misery. When she returned, she was carrying some kind of book. I didn’t get a great look at it, but it kinda looked like a Russian Orthodox bible. I hope she wasn’t planning on converting. My parents would never let me be friends with one of those heretics.
“So, just to confirm,” Persephone said as she tucked the book into Emily’s bag, “that wasn’t the right old lady, right? What now?”
Gregor cracked his knuckles. “It means that Sergei’s killer is still alive. So we go kill him.”
Terry grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
I saw Persephone roll her eyes, but she said nothing as we made our way through the monastery. It was a bit treacherous considering the fact that it was ancient and in clear need of renovation, but we made it through pretty easily. After all, when you’ve faced an army of dragon riding aliens on a frozen world, it’s not like a few weak boards were that big a deal.
Also, I cheated and flew over everything that looked dangerous. Emily copied me and did the same.
After stopping to let everyone marvel at all the lightbulbs, we reached, at long last, a large set of double doors that no doubt led to the main chapel. We could see flashing blue-white light coming through the doors. “He’s here,” Gregor said. “I can feel it.” He tensed his muscles as he spoke, and immediately shifted into the form of a frost giant. Not necessarily the best idea in this decrepit building, but the floor held.
Terry put away his gun and pulled out his rocket launcher. Persephone became a manticore once more. I cast a defensive spell in case Terry was told to kill me again. And Emily tried a spell we’d worked on, hastening all of our movements. “Now we can be better at killing old people!” the girl said proudly as the spell worked.
Terry beamed with pride. “That’s my girl!”
Persephone just looked annoyed.
Meanwhile… Burin walked over with a completely guileless look on his face, threw open the door, and said hello. That dwarf will be the death of us. I’m sure of it.
Rasputin was floating in the center of the room, surrounded by Tesla coils and all sorts of “mad-science” type stuff all over. Electricity was arcing between him and the coils, and there was a pale green shell around him, like a force field. I recognized it as magic that would prevent living creatures from approaching him. It wouldn’t stop me, with my celestial heritage, nor would it stop an eidolon, but it would prevent the others from walking up to him. It was a smart play.
“Welcome fools! You are too late! I have sucked out almost all of my mother’s power! Soon, I will take her throne and will conquer this and all other worlds!”
Terry sneered. “Sucked out her power? How? With your lips on her saggy, old-lady teet?”
Rasputin unleashed a spell without a word, striking us with unholy energy. After the instant of pain subsided, I felt ill, and Emily didn’t look any better, but the rest were minimally affected. Then he instantly unleashed another, commanding Terry to attack me. Called it.
What I didn’t see coming was that Terry actually resisted the command. He fired a rocket at Rasputin, but missed due to a magical field of distorted probability, and the rocket went past the mad monk before exploding. Of course, it was a rocket, so the explosion still clipped Rasputin, causing him to wince in pain.
As the explosion cleared, Emily teleported Persephone into the fray, behind Rasputin – I guess she hadn’t figured out that Persephone could fly right through. With the distraction, Gregor charged straight at the green shell, the teleported at the last second, appearing within. He then began punching the hell out of the floating Rasputin.
Rasputin could cast quickly, I’ll give him that. But two could play that game. I drew on the power of the storm surging within and began hitting him with fireball after fireball. As I did so, I watched as first Terry, then Burin, wandered off, following a bunch of shielded cables through a door into the next room. In a moment, I heard an explosion as Terry began trying to wreck whatever machine was inside, then casting as Burin joined him.
After unleashing a blast of lightning and healing the wounds he’d received, the mad monk began preparing another spell. Gregor punched Rasputin with all his might, and the monk’s neck snapped to an odd angle. He looked dead.
It didn’t last. In a mere few seconds, the monk snapped back to life and unleashed more spells, he cast a powerful spell, but Gregor shrugged it off and kept fighting. “I will kill you as many times as I have to,” Gregor growled.
“I only need to kill you once,” Rasputin quipped back, healing himself again and unleashing another blast of energy at Gregor. I kept weaving fireballs, but Emily ran off after Terry and Burin.
Gregor struck Rasputin again, once more killing him, but the monk came back with a laugh. “I will kill you once for every one of my brothers!” Gregor shouted as he continued fighting. It was clear that the deaths were taking their toll, but we had to end this soon. I was running out of magic.
So I tried something I’d never tried before. This time, instead of pulling on the magic of the inner storm to cast faster, I tried pushing the magic into the fireball itself. The fire burst forth from my hand, white hot and struck Rasputin. For the first time, he cried out in pain.
Once more, his wounds healed due to his magic, but Rasputin now saw that Persephone – who had been constantly clawing at his back – and I could not be ignored. So he unleashed a spell upon Gregor. “KILL HER!” he commanded. Not sure which of us he meant.
“Oh, I’m killing someone,” Gregor said. His hand shot out, his fingers pointed like a knife. His hand tore through Rasputin’s chest and he ripped out the monk’s still-beating heart.
Terry and Burin came running out of the room just in time to watch as Gregor roared in fury with his foe’s heart in his hand. The monk’s body crumpled and the electricity in the room faded. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that Emily had been standing there next to Rasputin. She’d probably tried to teleport Burin over to the monk, but the stubborn dwarf had refused. She later told me that the room was dangerous and she was trying to get him out, but he’d insisted on staying and continuing to smash the machines.
It was over. We healed up and began dismantling the machine, piece by piece, and feeding it into the box. There were some really valuable things in there. As we worked, I heard Terry asking Gregor about how he felt, but Gregor said little.
Eventually, the machines led us to a bunch of small matroshka dolls. The way they were set up, they almost looked like batteries. Gregor eyed the one in the center. “I have seen this before,” he said quietly. “He took it from the monastery. This thing is why Sergei was killed.”
He reached out and picked up the doll. A voice rang out in my head, and from the reaction, Terry, Gregor and Burin heard it too. “So my Black Rider is dead, and he sent you in his place. No wonder it took so long. Now, take me to the Hut. Once there, I will give you instructions on how to free me.”
Terry snatched the doll out of Gregor’s hand and pulled out his gun. Persephone, perplexed but knowing her husband, grabbed it from him. “Hey! I was going to threaten that egg!” he said.
Persephone then gave it to me and I looked at the doll carefully. It was filled with an INSANE amount of magic. “Baba Yaga, I presume?” I said.
I guess she should have stuck with running the Heartbreak Hotel.
** spoiler omitted **
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“For ‘man who could not die’, he came back surprisingly few times,” Gregor answered.
“It’s not like you were alone,” Persephone said. “I helped.”
“Yeah,” Terry said. “You, uh, certainly contributed.”
Persephone smacked the jerk playfully and he feigned injury. Then she walked over to me, Emily in tow like a duckling. “What’s the situation with the doll?”
I shrugged. “She’s not answering,” I said. “I suspect it’s difficult for her to speak in there.”
“Do you think it’s really her?” she asked.
“It is good question,” Gregor said. “Last one was imposter, after all.”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Maybe the Hut will be able to recognize her?” Burin suggested.
It was as good a plan as any. I was about to say as much, but Persephone’s attention had turned to Terry, who was busy piling up kindling on Rasputin’s body. “Terry. Murder time is over. It’s time to go.”
He looked crestfallen as she walked over to Emily, who was yawning. “I’m sleepy,” the girl said. She really sleeps a lot. It’s kinda strange.
As we started to leave, I heard Gregor whispering to Terry. “We start fire as we leave,” the fighter said. “It would have been bad to trap ourselves inside anyway.”
“You’re no fun.”
“If you want fun, we could always spar.”
“Yeah, no. Maybe we can talk after I fix my dragon.” There was a popping sound as he uncorked a flask of oil. “Besides, I think I can make this work.”
Persephone stopped suddenly. “Wait. You have a dragon?!” she asked. Terry didn’t answer, just grinned as he carefully poured oil behind him as he made his way to the door. “Hey!” she called. “Come back here and answer me!”
Once we made it outside, Terry shot the trail of oil with a magically flaming bullet. The oil ignited. At first, the movement of the flame was slow, but it sped up, and soon the whole cathedral was ablaze. Only the stone would remain when it was over. “I do good work,” Terry said.
“See?” Persephone interjected. “Compromise is a good thing.”
Once we turned from the fire, we noticed something strange. Burin was the first to point it out. “Weren’t there a bunch of celestials and fiends fighting out here a while ago?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I guess the celestials won and cleaned up the evidence,” I said. And they did good work. There was no evidence that anything at all had happened out here aside from the mayhem we’d personally caused.
On our way back to the hut, we stopped by the graveyard. Dmitri was gone, but Polina was still puttering around, digging for bones. Emily waved happily at the sight of the creepy little fey, and Polina ended up waving back. “We killed the bad guys!” Emily announced happily. “Oh, and my mom ate your goat.” Persephone buried her face in her hand at the girl’s excited revelation.
Polina cocked her head to the side. “How did you get in, then?”
“Miss Lyriana’s magic mirror knew what to do.”
“Oh, then where is Little Grandmother? Don’t tell me you were too late.”
“I think Miss Lyriana has her.”
Polina looked at me, and I produced the doll. “She seems to be trapped in here. At least, we think it’s her.”
The fairy took the doll and examined it. “That’s very powerful magic,” she said. “It would definitely hold even Little Grandmother. Let me look closer.” She brought the doll just an inch from her nose, and focused intently. I noticed that the others seemed to be holding their collective breath as she did so.
I might have been too, but, you know, no breath and all that.
“Well?” Terry asked, finally.
“Yes, I think that’s her,” Polina said as she handed the doll back to me. “How do you plan to get her out?”
“I swear I will shoot someone if anyone suggests a solution that involves a goat,” Terry said.
“Terry… we had goats on the farm. What is your problem with them?” Persephone asked.
“Yeah, we had goats on the farm, and look where that got us.”
“I like goats,” Emily said. “Especially the baby ones. They’re so cute!” Terry made a disgusted sound.
“They really are,” I agreed with Emily. Then I turned back to Polina. “I haven’t figured that part out yet,” I admitted. “I’ll research my father’s notes and see if there are any clues there. And if not, then maybe Godmother will have a suggestion.”
“Ah, good. It’s smart to ask for help when you don’t know what to do.”
“Besides,” Gregor said. “If the solution really does involve a goat, we will not need to seek one out. The goat will find us. They always do.” He was grinning at Terry, whose hand was twitching and involuntarily reaching for his gun.
“So, what are you going to do?” Emily asked Polina.
The fairy eyed her as if it was an unnecessary question with an obvious answer. “I’m going to dig,” she said.
“I knew I liked her,” I heard Burin say to Gregor.
“Perhaps you are two of a kind,” Gregor suggested.
“Gods no,” Terry said. “We do NOT need two Burins. One is plenty.”
“I must ask,” Gregor suddenly said. “Can we not just break doll to release Baba Yaga?”
“It seems to be an artifact of great power,” Burin answered. “Those are nearly impossible to destroy unless you meet very specific conditions. That might end up being what we need to do, of course, but we will need to research the doll before we can find those conditions.”
I nodded. “And to that end, we should probably get back to the hut and figure out what our next step is.” After all, we still needed to get back to our own time. I just hoped we didn’t have to free Baba Yaga to make that happen, as we could be stuck here for weeks, or even months if that was the case.
Emily hugged Polina. The fairy looked startled, but not unhappy at the gesture. “Should you really let her do that?” Gregor whispered to Terry, who just shrugged.
“Do I look at all like I know what I’m doing when it comes to parenting? Ask Persephone,” he whispered back.
“It seems okay,” Persephone answered.
Emily came over to me after saying goodbye to her new friend. “So, we’re going back to the future now, right?”
“As soon as we figure out the key,” I said.
“The key has been in plain sight the entire time, and remains with every iteration of the hut,” the voice of an old woman said weakly. “It will take you where you need to go next.”
We pondered that for a bit as we walked, but even when we returned to the hut, we didn’t have an answer. We sat down in the common room with Greta and the Coffin Man - who had decided that he was going with us, at least as far as the hut’s next destination - and tried to brainstorm answers.
But even after hours, we hadn’t come up with the solution. I was getting frustrated, and we’d tried asking Baba Yaga, but she was either too tired or unwilling to answer us.
And then, suddenly, like a bolt out of the blue, Terry began laughing. He stood up and rushed from the room. The rest of us exchanged worried looks. “Emily, wake up,” I said, shaking the sleepy girl.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We might need your mom,” I said.
“Oh.” She summoned Persephone.
“Where is Terry?” she asked.
“We are about to find out,” Gregor said, leading the way to catch up with him. Persephone shot me a worried look, then followed the fighter.
We found Terry in the room with the cauldron. He was still laughing as he held a struggling Zorka above his head. She was swatting him with a broom. “Cut that out!” Terry said.
“Let me go!” the kikimora shrieked, striking him again.
“Terry! What are you doing?!” Persephone asked.
“What Baba Yaga told us to do!” he said as he shoved the struggling Zorka into the bubbling cauldron, with only her arm remaining. He held her under for a few moments, the rest of us too shocked to act, until her arm went limp.
“That wasn’t a good thing!” Burin said. “Pull her out!”
I wasn’t sure if CPR would work on a creature like Zorka, but Momma had insisted I learn before going. Gregor rushed over to the cauldron, pushing Terry out of the way. “You guys are overreacting!” Terry complained. “It’s fine!”
“You killed her!” I said. “How could you?! Gregor, hurry and get her out.”
Gregor looked at me, his face stricken. “She is gone,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Burin asked. “Is she dead already?”
“No, she is-” but he was interrupted as the house lurched, beginning its dimension hopping journey once more.
Terry grinned. “See? I told you it was fine. Remember, violence solves everything,” he said, strutting out of the room. “Emily, let’s get some cake,” he called back.
“Yes, sir,” Emily said, dutifully following her father to get her treat. That girl is going to end up so incredibly screwed up by the time she reaches adulthood.
And speaking of screwed up childhoods, we soon realized we’d forgotten something when we eventually followed them back to the common room. I mean, it was obvious, but we’d had a lot on our plates, so it’s not our fault that we forgot. We’re in the middle of saving the world, okay?
I just hope Anastasia will forgive us for kidnapping her and dragging her over a hundred years into the future, eventually.
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The weirdest part was that Burin didn’t manage to say anything to make things worse. Not for lack of trying to “help”, in his earnest, dwarfy way. But luck was on our side, and Anastasia was too freaked out to listen to him.
Once that issue was handled, I sat down and started to relax, but quickly realized that the group of us stuck in such close proximity was a recipe for flaring tempers. We needed something to keep our minds occupied. But what to do?
Well, Cortana had a suggestion. And it wasn’t a bad one. So it was that I set up a projector and an old gaming console in the common room and had everyone playing old videogames taken from a list Daddy had put together.
Surprisingly, Emily didn’t play much. She mostly slept. In fact, I’d begun to suspect something was wrong with her even before the time Terry came running out of his room half naked demanding we wake Emily back up. I’m guessing he and Persephone had been having sex when Emily passing out caused Persephone to disappear.
Like I said, I’d already suspected something was wrong with Emily. That maybe she had a cold or something. But it was then when we realized something was really wrong.
You see, Emily wouldn’t wake up.
She wasn’t dead. No, she was definitely breathing. And she didn’t seem to be in a coma. No, her eyes were fluttering like she was dreaming. And if she was dreaming, that meant we could talk to her, and maybe find out if something was wrong.
“You don’t think a demon’s involved, do you?” Burin asked.
I honestly wasn’t sure. “I can’t rule out the possibility,” I said. It was a valid point, especially considering what I suspected about Persephone. “I’m thinking of traveling to the Dreamlands and entering her dream to see if I can find out what’s wrong.”
“I’m going with you then,” Burin said. “In case you need backup.”
I looked at the others, to see if they wanted to come along. “I’ve spent years in my daughter’s head. I’m not sure I need to go back in there,” Terry said.
“I will keep an eye on you while you sleep,” Greta agreed.
I was about to ask Gregor if he wanted to come, but I could see Anastasia wasn’t okay with being left alone with Terry, Greta and the Coffin Man. Or, from her perspective, the crazed assassin, the monster and the grim reaper. So I didn’t even ask.
I used the connection from the mantle of the Black Rider to locate Burin. From there, I planned to use the connection between the two of them to find Emily. But something was blocking it. Strange. So we were forced to look for her the hard way.
Luckily, it wasn’t hard to find Emily’s dream. After all, I’m familiar with the Dreamlands now, I know the place like the back of my hand – hey, have I always had that mole on my pinkie? – and even in the strangeness of the Dreamlands, pastels stick out.
Yeah, you heard me. We went through the pastel yellow doorway and found ourselves in a meadow that was absolutely beautiful, aside from looking like something Easter threw up. Even the sky was a pastel blue with fluffy pink pastel clouds. They were shaped like bunnies.
I like cute things, but it was sickening.
We heard a giggle and looked at the source of the sound. About a hundred yards ahead of us, there was a corral next to a cottage. In the center of the corral was a small herd of ponies colored various pastel shades. Sitting on top of one – colored pastel pink with cherry red hair, and yes, I realize I’m using the word pastel a lot, but there’s no other way to get this across – was a young girl in a yellow sundress. Like, Peep yellow.
“Emily, is that you?” Burin called out.
The girl didn’t react, but the ponies turned towards us and stared, their faces fixed with rictus-like grins and unblinking eyes. Slowly, and in unison, they chewed the grass they were eating just once. The cherry pony began making its way towards the cottage and the others began heading towards us.
On the breeze, I could smell the inviting scent of breakfast wafting from the house, but that was quickly replaced with an acrid scent as the ponies – actually Nightmares, of course – breathed smoke at us.
In the smoke, Burin got bitten – of course he did – and I took a kick to my gut before Nebbie clawed at the nearest pony. Burin roared as he grew into an entirely too massive dragon and bit back. I then touched the power within. The magic created a glowing glyph of the Thassilonian symbol of wrath on the ground and threw back the ponies with a wave of force.
The ponies tried to attack, but Burin protected me and their attacks were useless against his thick hide. I was entirely done screwing around and reached my hands through the dreamstuff, ripping it asunder and calling out to the eldritch entities that live on the edge of terror. The ones Godmother had sat down for a conversation about never messing with me after one particular incident we won’t be talking about. Oh, and boy did they respond.
Tentacles emerged from numerous holes and began tearing ponies apart. Some of the ponies tried to flee, but Burin slammed two directly into the ground with his tail as I sent one into the airless ether and burned two more to a crisp with dream-enhanced flame.
I heard a sound from over at the cottage, and turned to see the cherry pony “clapping” with its front hooves as it stood on its hind legs. The girl was gone, likely having disappeared into the house.
Burin wasn’t having any of its smirk and charged, biting the pony with his massive jaws, tearing out a large chunk. The pony didn’t even notice. “So eager to join the feast, are you?” it asked sarcastically.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My favorite little girl named me Scarlet,” the pony answered. Burin snapped at it, but the pony dodged. “Hold your horses. My mistress invites you enter, offering you sacred hospitality due to guests.”
I looked at my friend, then at the door. “Sorry, Burin won’t fit,” I said, weaving a magic spell and disintegrating the wall.
Inside the cabin was a girl, definitely Emily, coloring at a table. In the kitchen was a woman with crimson hair holding a different baby girl. “That wasn’t very nice,” the woman said, stirring her pot as the baby started crying. She turned around, and her face looked oddly like Persephone’s. But that definitely wasn’t Persephone. “Please, stay for breakfast,” she said.
I felt the pressure of her words as a command washing over me. I resisted it, but Burin immediately began stomping over to the table to have a meal. I stood defiant in the face of the demon’s will.
She tsked at me. “Come now, Daughter of the Runelord. Join us so we may get to know you better.” I felt her will upon me and this time couldn’t resist as my mind was filled with the most pornographic images to ever grace my mind.
I’ve been horny before. All the time. But this was different. I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things I wanted to do to this woman, and all the things I wanted her to do to me. I didn’t do what she told me, staying where I was, but I couldn’t wrest my thoughts back and was stuck where I was, the most lurid images filling my brain. I feel dirty even remembering them now.
And based on the power of her mind upon mine, I’m confident this was no normal demon we were dealing with. This was definitely a demon lord. And for her to be after Emily made no sense, unless… but how the hell was a demon lord allied with Typhon Lee?
“How many did we lose?” the woman asked Scarlet.
“Six, I think,” Scarlet answered. “One disappeared, so I don’t know what happened to her.”
“Find more,” the woman said. “And get some rope for our guests.” The thought of rope sent my mind in a whole new and horrifying direction.
Burin tried to grab Emily and run, but the woman made a disapproving sound. “Mister Burin, please put Emily down,” she said. He set her back down and plopped down on his tail at the table, unable to resist the power of her will.
The woman began setting plates on the table. “The last Burin – I’m surprised you managed to destroy Amgorath, by the way – and the daughter of the Runelord. What friends Guiser has made. You fascinate me. I almost admire that. How do you like your steaks?”
“I prefer shovels,” Burin answered, completely serious.
The woman twitched. Apparently Burin’s literal mind can affect demon lords as easily as it can me. “Rare it is.” She sighed. “Lyriana, why are you still standing there? Why do you fight so hard for a girl you barely know?” You may feel like you owe Guiser, but –“
“Wait!” Burin interjected. “Were you talking about meat? I thought you meant tools!” He was completely serious. He’s ALWAYS completely serious.
The woman twitched again. “Fix that chair you broke while I finish your food,” she told Burin.
“Where’s the hammer? I only have a shovel.”
“Scarlet, forget the other stuff for a moment and help Burin.” She turned back to me. “You may feel like you owe Guiser, but compared to you, he has no light in his heart. He’ll betray you like he betrayed my beloved Dragonlord. He destroys everything he touches.” She smirked. “He’d make a great demon, if I’m being honest.”
She set the food on the table and commanded Burin to eat. Literal minded as usual, he pulled food from his bag and began eating. I’m not sure if he was resisting or just being his normal idiotic self.
“I’m not sure what you did to Guiser’s beloved to keep her from continuing her transformation, but I will not give up on Emily. I will make her immortal. Leave her with me and I’ll make her wondrous.” Dammit. I knew something was going on with Persephone. We definitely needed to have a talk.
Emily looked at me and I saw her shudder as she recognized me. She stepped towards me. “Thank you, Miss Lyriana. You were the big sister I wanted, but I’m not worth it. I’m not a princess. I’m just me. Go, save the world and don’t worry about me anymore.”
My heart broke at her words and I began breaking free of the lurid thoughts filling my mind, but I struggled as they tried to reassert dominance. As I fought, I noticed something. The color of the grass had changed. No longer was it pastel, but a verdant, natural green. And that wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
Everything was now naturally colored save the cottage’s interior. I couldn’t really parse what that meant, as I was too busy fighting with the thoughts running rampant through my brain.
Suddenly, mashed potatoes struck the woman in the face. She blinked in disbelief as the baby in her arms laughed. She reached up and wiped the potatoes from her face. She looked incredulously at Scarlet, who looked absolutely different. No longer did she have the wounds from before, and no longer was she pastel.
She was a vibrant bubblegum pink – her mane and tail a darker, chewed bubblegum color – and was smiling genuinely. There were colorful balloons tattooed on her flank. “Do you need me to clean that?” Burin offered.
“Kill that horse,” the woman commanded.
“Right away,” Burin said. He reverted to his dragon form and bit at the pink pony. The pony dodged easily and struck him in the head with an amazing roundhouse kick.
The woman’s form shifted, revealing her true form – that of the demon lord Nocticula – and she waved her hand. All the silverware turned into force and flew towards the pony. She moved her front hoof, deflecting the energy easily. She then laughed and the ground beneath Nocticula’s feet turned into mashed potatoes, swallowing her up to just below her arms. The ground then turned into a solid potato.
Annoyed, Nocticula grew a pair of bat-like wings and she flew up out of the ground. She flew towards Emily and I reacted by creating a wall of force between the girl and the demon. As the demon slammed into the wall, that broke the spell on Emily. She screamed and teleported behind me, holding onto my leg.
“Glad to have you back, kid,” I said to her.
Time stopped and I couldn’t move. But somehow I could see it. Probably because it was the Dreamlands. “You think you’ve won?” Nocticula asked me. She turned to Emily, who was thankfully oblivious. “There’s nowhere to hide. You’ll never have a good night’s sleep. You’ll never be safe. And one day, when you realize what monsters your parents are, you’ll come back to my arms, little princess –“
The pony was gone and suddenly Godmother was next to Nocticula. She slammed her fist into the demon lord’s gut, knocking the wind from her. “You talk of thresholds?” Godmother said. “You talk of safety? THIS. IS. MY. HOUSE.” She delivered a roundhouse kick to Nocticula, sending her flying. To the demon lord’s credit, she cradled the baby, protecting her. “You’re the one not safe here.”
Nocticula stood as time resumed, wiping the blood from her lips. “You win this one for now. But there are so many children in the world. You can’t save them all.”
“Save them all?” Godmother scoffed. “I’m not here for anything so silly. I’m not here to pick a fight. But you interfered with those under my protection. Do not do so again, or I will end you.”
Nocticula looked like she was going to respond, but thought better of it and disappeared with the baby. “Who is that?” Emily asked, indicating Godmother.
“That’s my Godmother. Her name is Samantha and she lives here in the realm of dreams. As long as she’s here, you don’t have to fear anything in dreams.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “Are we not going to save Gabby?”
“Who is that?” I asked.
“I… don’t know.” She thought. “I thought she was my sister, but I don’t know who she really is. She’s just a baby.”
Godmother tousled Emily’s hair. “Sorry kiddo. I don’t know where Nocticula is. She left the Dreamlands.” She waved over at Burin, who was picking himself up off of the ground. “You coming?” she asked as she opened a portal.
“You hit really hard,” he noted.
“Sorry, you were a dragon. Had to hit you pretty hard.”
“It’s okay,” Burin said. “I can take it.”
We stepped through the portal and found ourselves in the space station my godmother had given me. “Wow, this place is cool!” Emily exclaimed.
“This is Lyriana’s place,” Godmother answered. “From now on, you’ll come here whenever you dream. You’ll always be safe here.”
Emily nodded and looked out at the stars. She began talking to herself. “Gabby, I will find you. I will save you.”
Behind me, I heard Godmother mutter in her best Liam Neeson impersonation, “And I will kill you.” I stifled a giggle. What? My parents love that movie.
After a moment, Emily turned to me. “Miss Lyriana, I don’t want to be a princess anymore. I want to be a hero.”
Burin turned to her. “Why not both?” he asked.
Suddenly the door burst open and half a dozen of the red skinned beings who crewed my space station rushed in. They were wearing sombreros and ponchos and one was playing the Mexican Hat Dance on his trumpet as they hoisted Burin on his shoulders, cheering as they did so. They began dancing out into the hallway, carrying off a protesting Burin.
Emily shot me an alarmed look. I smiled and shrugged, then held out my hands, willing a pair of maracas to appear in them. I gave them a shake and handed them to the girl. She laughed and began following them, playing along with the music.
I was left alone with Godmother. “Thanks,” I said.
“Of course,” she said. “Any time.”
“Is there anything we can do for her mother?” I asked.
“I’ll look into it, but no promises. She’s already pretty far gone, even if she’s halted the progression somehow. And that’s assuming we can get her back. She’s not in the Dreamlands.”
“I understand,” I said.
“If I can’t do it, you might try to ask your father’s bowling buddies if they can return her to normal.”
Wait. What? “Daddy bowls?!” That was the lamest thing I’d ever heard.
“He owns a bowling alley in Wisconsin,” she answered. “It’s just there so he can hang out with those two guys he met in the land of the dead. Your god said they can visit as long as they pretend to be normal people and not interfere while they’re there.”
That just left a number of other questions. “Who are they?” I asked.
“Just a drunk and a dwarf. But I repeat myself.” She laughed at her own joke. “They’re alright. Your aunt likes them, so I’ll be nice.”
I still couldn’t get over the fact that Daddy bowled. “Is he any good?” I asked.
“He has a one eighty eight average,” she said. “Anyway, time for you to wake up. I’m sure your friend’s worried about his daughter. Oh, and don’t worry about Nocticula. She’s very shortly about to have a very bad day. And the people who are going to inflict it on her don’t even know they’re going to do it.”
I woke suddenly and went out to the main room. As I walked in, there was a commotion from the table. “THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE!” Gregor said angrily. “HOW DO YOU HAVE SUCH CARDS?!”
Terry and Anastasia were laughing and even Greta seemed amused as the Coffin Man smirked. So much for being worried. I guess they had faith that Burin and I would be able to handle it. They had to have.
I’m sure they wouldn’t have been playing Uno otherwise.
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** spoiler omitted **
Not intentionally, no.
The baby is a future PC, for instance.
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I could have had the same issues, but Daddy and Momma had made sure that I knew what I’d need to know before packing me off to Golarion for my little sabbatical that turned into trying to save the world. I felt bad for the princess.
“In the land of dreams,” I said, “there is no one who can keep her safer. Perhaps a god could threaten her, but I can’t imagine any of those will get involved.”
“I see,” the girl said, frowning.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“It is still much to take in. I… do not disbelieve you. But to think, everyone I know is dead. Even those who were not murdered have died of old age.”
“You do have a relative still alive,” Burin said cheerfully.
Anastasia sighed. “Yes, my grandmother, the witch from folk tales. And she is stuck in a doll.”
“It is not so bad, being alone. You get used to it. Also, we are working on freeing your grandmother,” Gregor said.
“How exactly are you working on it? I see nothing but idleness. You play cards, and yet you call that working?”
“We can do nothing while we travel,” Gregor said defensively. “So we must train. As the body is trained, so too must the mind. And the cards are part of that training.”
“They are games for children!” she countered.
“Games are training!” Gregor argued.
The two continued bickering like that for several minutes before Greta had enough. “Stop it, both of you!” she said, growling. “I have not torn out your throat out of respect for your grandmother. But it has grown annoyingly loud in here since you arrived.”
Things devolved from there, in general. I don’t think she expected Greta’s reaction to being called a b~@%+ – it doesn’t bother her, as technically, well, you know. But what killed the argument was when she condemned me and Greta for “living in sin” and I told her suggestively that she was welcome to come discover what she was missing. After that, she stormed out to go sleep in the library. Gregor was angry with us for ganging up on her, though I think he was mostly annoyed that we didn’t leave the fight to him.
After she was gone, the boys continued their game with the Coffin Man while Greta and I went to bed. Getting into an argument had fired up my wife and she had some aggression to work off. I was more than happy to help with that.
I woke up early the next morning to a familiar sound from the living room. It took a few moments for my brain to register what I was hearing, but when I did, I quietly got up and crept over to the door, peeking out.
It seems that even here, no one wakes up earlier than children and old people. And so it was that I found Emily and the Coffin Man watching cartoons while the rest of the house slept. He was seated in a rocking chair while she was on the floor staring raptly at the screen, her mouth moving along with the words of the theme music.
Sometimes I forget that she’s younger than she looks, thanks to her body aging while her soul was trapped elsewhere. Her body might be around thirteen, but her mind is closer to ten years old. And I hadn’t been much younger when I’d watched that particular show with Daddy.
I quietly closed the door and got changed, my clothes taking the appearance of the costume worn by the show’s protagonist. I then crept out and took a seat in another chair behind the girl, motioning for the Coffin Man not to say anything. Then I watched along, waiting for the episode to finish. I was in luck. This was the one where the credits were to the opening theme instead of the instrumental ending because of certain events that transpired in the show.
So I sang along, waiting for the right moment to join in with Emily, who was already singing along. “She will never turn her back on a friend. She is always there to defend. She is the one on whom we depend…”
About that time, Emily turned around and noticed what I was wearing. “Miss Lyriana!” she gasped. “You’re…”
“An old fan,” I said. Not of the original. The animation was too bad for me even as a kid. No, I liked the remake that was released back in the summer of twenty nine. “I watched this show back when I was about your age.
“I… wow!”
I grinned. “So you like this one?” I asked.
“She’s a hero,” Emily said with a nod.
“I see…” So she was still serious about being a hero. “She’s also really good at magic,” I said. A thought occurred. “You wanna see a show about a girl who summons monsters to fight evil?”
Her eyes went wide. “There’s a show like that?!” she gasped.
Actually, I could think of at least half a dozen that loosely worked on that kind of premise. But I knew just the one. The main character was a princess, after all. It was perfect.
The Coffin Man took our choice to watch such kids’ fare like a champ. I mean, he was also traveling through time, so this was all new to him too. It was a little creepy how he identified with the evil spirit that had granted the main character magic through a pact, though.
Greta joined us about an hour later, kissing me on the top of my head as she came to see what we were watching. At that exact moment, the show introduced the main character’s second love interest – the cyborg. Greta stared at him for a moment. I couldn’t blame her. For an animated character, he’s pretty hot. And shirtless in that scene too.
“Is that possible?” she asked.
“I mean, yeah, I guess you could kill a dragon that big with that much plasma,” I said. “Maybe not a red or blue. But a black dragon like that wouldn’t have any immunity to fire or electricity.”
“No,” Greta said. “His arm…”
Oh. Right. The character had his arm replaced with a robotic one. I’d been waiting to talk to her about that, when I was more sure of myself. “I’ve actually been thinking of making one for you,” I said. “I just wasn’t sure I would be able to properly implant it, so I’ve been waiting until my magic headband made me a good enough surgeon that I could implant it with no trouble.”
“I could help with that,” Terry said from the door to his room.
I mean, he was a decent battlefield surgeon, but this was some delicate work. “You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah. I got something called a PhD now, so I think I’m qualified.”
“Wait, what?” I was mystified.
“I asked the mirror how to make money, and it suggested I get this PhD thing. So I did. I had to learn a lot. Not sure how it’ll make me any money, though.”
I just stared at him for a moment, then I remembered something Emily had said when we first revived her. “‘I’ve seen one of those before. But there were a lot of naked people in the mirror.’ She was remembering you studying anatomy, not watching pornography,” I said as realization hit. I was almost disappointed in him.
“Porno-what?” he asked.
“Never mind,” I said. “Back to the arm. It’ll be made of modern materials, lightweight and strong, with artificial muscles and everything. Also, I think we can make it shapeshift when you take your wolf form.” That part had surprised me, but Cortana had suggested it. Apparently it was based on something Daddy was working on, some kind of shapeshifting armor for someone he knew that was both a dragon and a paladin. Yeah, I don’t know.
But it would work for Greta, and that was awesome.
So I went over to the box and activated the crafting function. It had the specs for the last thing made still loaded – some kind of magic shovel. It was collapsible for easy storage and had what the specs described as a “point and dig interface”. It could excavate a hundred and twenty five cubic feet of dirt in six seconds.
Basically, it was an unlimited use magic wand capable of casting a first level spell. And Burin had created it for digging. Some things never change.
We scanned Greta’s other arm and used that as a template, then made the other one. It took only moments before we were staring at a perfectly crafted limb made of dull gray metal. The end was a mass of nano fibers, artificial nerves that hopefully would be woven into Greta’s own nervous system, allowing her to control the arm as if it were her own natural limb.
It all happened so fast. It took hours, but it seemed like only minutes later, Greta was lying on the table unconscious while Terry and I finished attaching her limb and injected her with several doses of nanites. And then the waiting began. We would have to wait for her to wake up, since we couldn’t use nanites to do it without risking interfering with the other nanites already at work.
To distract myself, I worked with Cortana to make Greta a new weapon. She’d used that big axe when I first met her, but I wasn’t sure she’d have that much coordination for a while. Something one handed, maybe. I browsed through the weapons catalog, until finally finding something I liked. The label on the file called it a Sun Blade. But it had some problems.
First of all, it was a sword, and my lovely barbarian wife seemed to like axes. That was an easy fix. The paperclip made that switch easily. Next came the hard part. You see, a sun blade is made to be wielded by Good creatures, like angels and paladins and such.
Greta… is a winter wolf. They’re not known to be Good. It’s possible she’s Neutral, but let’s be honest, she’s probably Evil. Which I can work with. I like bad girls just fine, and she’s always treated me well. But the weapon wouldn’t work for her. So that had to go. It was intrinsically linked to the weapon’s properties, though, so it had to be altered, rather than removed. So next it became an Evil weapon. Burin wouldn’t be able to wield it, though it would likely be useable by Gregor or Terry if they wanted, since I’m sure they’re both at least Neutral.
Altering the alignment had also altered the sunlight power, so instead of producing light, the axe made the air around it colder. That wouldn’t bother Greta or me, and everyone else was wearing gear that would protect them against such effects. So that was fine.
All that was left to have the weapon made. I told Cortana to begin. “Error!” the paperclip shouted as the process started. “Crafting unstable! Power draw greater than expected. Compensate?”
“Do it!” I shouted. Cortana looked at the clip and nodded.
I thought the box was going to explode, but moments later, there was a ding like a microwave timer and a burst of mist. When that cleared, there it was, a beautiful axe the size and shape of one of those larger ones the dwarves use and covered in snowflake filigree. I picked it up, and it was ice cold to the touch, and super light. Like, lighter than mithral. But it felt perfectly balanced. I didn’t dare swing it, for fear that would cause it to react negatively with my alignment. But I could hold it just fine.
After Greta woke up, we tested out her arm and I led her to our room so I could give her my gift. “It is beautiful,” she said. “Almost as beautiful as the one giving it to me.” I blushed as she swung it. “It is very light,” she said, her tone sounding perhaps a bit hurt and almost accusatory. Crap. I had failed to account for her feelings when I’d made it.
“It’s, well, I…” I raced for an explanation. “It’s made to be used one handed,” I said. “It’s just, well, you got hurt, and I was worried. So I was hoping you’d also use a shield.” It was the only thing my mind could come up with that would explain why I’d done it that way without calling into question her abilities. It was my fear – not her strength – that was the issue.
She regarded me for a moment, then smiled. “If it will make you feel better, then I will use a shield,” she said, testing the axe again. “Thank you for the gift.”
I hugged her. “You’re welcome. So, are you going to name it?”
“That is traditionally the job of the smith,” she said.
“Oh. Well, in that case, how does ‘Winter’s Kiss’ sound to you?” I asked.
She tossed the axe aside and pressed me to the wall. “That sounds lovely,” she said, pressing her lips against mine.
An hour or so later, we returned to the common room, where we found Gregor teaching Anastasia and Emily how to bowl in a sports game. It’s just as lame as it sounds. But I have to admit, he’s pretty good at the game. We ended up forming up teams and having a competition, and it was more fun than I expected.
Since there were nine of us, we split into three teams. The Guisers were on one team, then it was Burin, Gregor and Anastasia on team two and Greta, the Coffin Man and I on a third team. Terry, Gregor and the Coffin Man got really into the competition, while the rest of us were just having fun. All in all, Team Guiser won thanks to Anastasia’s low score, followed by Gregor’s team and finally ours, thanks to the penalty incurred for Greta breaking a controller with her new arm.
After that, we switched to boxing competition. Gregor lost his first match Anastasia, who was treating the game like a game, using short, stifled jabs to make the character attack inhumanly fast. Meanwhile, Gregor was performing proper combat maneuvers, which did nothing to benefit him in the game, much to his consternation. In the end, it was Emily versus Anastasia, and the younger girl won, playing the game the same way as Anastasia. She has the eye of the tiger, that one.
After his losses, Gregor stayed up drowning his sorrow in cranberry juice. Burin stayed up with him. From my room, I could hear them talking, and I admit that I listened in. “I find that I do not know what to do next,” the fighter was saying. “Tell me, Burin, what will you do now?”
“Probably return home after we save the world,” the dwarf answered. “I left a lot of work for my cousins. I guess I should get back and carry my share of that load, since I don’t have the demon to worry about. What are you going to do?”
“I… do not know. I am thinking perhaps I will rebuild Sergei’s monastery. Or perhaps travel the world to become stronger first. Freedom… is a daunting prospect. It is perhaps not good to have so many options available before me.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Burin said. “And if you can’t, I can always use help back at home. I’ve been meaning to rebuild the wall on the south end of our property for decades. An extra set of hands and a strong back might make the work go quicker, and having someone to talk to while I work will definitely make the work less tedious.”
Gregor laughed. “I suspect you will turn into a dragon and have the work finished in a week.”
“But then I’d have nothing to do,” Burin pointed out.
Gregor made a noise as though he were considering the dwarf’s words. “I will think on this for a time.”
The next morning, I was awoken by a knock at my door. When I opened it, I found Terry there. He was covered in paint and chomping on an apple. “I was just working on repairing and painting Zeus when I heard a noise. Then I went and investigated, and found our wives in the library. They were going at it pretty hard.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes went wide at his words. I mean, I know you know what I thought he meant. I know I almost fell running to the library, slipping on the wood floor in my socks. Then I threw open the library door to find…
A normal sized wolf and a manticore the size of a puma chasing each other around the library, attacking each other without doing any real harm to the other. “Oh!” Emily said from where she, Anastasia and Burin were watching the fight. “Sorry, Miss Lyriana, did they wake you?” Apparently she and Burin had cast spells to shrink Greta and Persephone to make better use of the smaller space.
I sighed, disappointed. “No, it’s fine.”
Gregor, who had heard the commotion, came in the room behind me. “Are we sparring?! Why did no one wake me?!”
That signaled the start of a whole physical fighting tournament. Gregor won that handily, though Burin gave him more trouble than he expected. Then Gregor and Persephone decided that Emily and Anastasia needed combat training.
Have you ever seen kids start martial arts classes? It was like that, but worse, somehow. They sucked. It was so bad that Greta left rather than continue watching. Eventually Emily gave up and went to go play games with the Coffin Man – they were working on getting their fourth gym badge, I think – and even Gregor gave up on training anyone, leaving to go eat.
But Anastasia wasn’t finished. She wanted to make some progress, so she and Persephone continued and I watched. But not because I wanted to see Persephone sweaty and grunting. They just needed someone keeping an eye on them. I was being altruistic.
After another hour, I could see Persephone was ready to give up. She’d been trying to teach the girl to fight with a sword – using wooden practice weapons, of course – and Anastasia just couldn’t master even the simplest of moves.
“Alright,” Persephone said. “One more round, and then we’re calling it a day. I’ll have you down in three seconds.”
Anastasia nodded, then took her stance. There was something different to it. Her shoulders were angled slightly differently from usual, and she held the sword with its tip pointed slightly lower than usual. At first, I thought she was just worn out. But then Persephone charged…
And Anastasia surprised both of us by dropping low and kicking the legs out from underneath Persephone. She wasn’t able to capitalize on the maneuver though, and Persephone leapt to her feet and still won the match. Still… it was pretty impressive.
“I didn’t teach you that,” Persephone said.
“I… saw Gregor do it during training.”
“Oh?” Persephone asked, her eyebrow raised as she shot me a knowing look. I caught the implication immediately. Oh my. “So you’ve been watching him train?”
“No, well, I…” the girl stammered. “There is nothing else to do here!” she complained.
Persephone put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “There’s no need to be bashful,” she said. “We’re all girls here. And I think you have excellent taste. You can tell a lot about a girl by the man she watches.”
“By that logic…” I said, pointedly leaving it hanging.
“Hey!” Persephone said defensively. “Terry’s good. Well, kinda.”
“I do not know how I feel,” Anastasia admitted. “Everything is so confusing right now.” And Gregor was the most normal person here, all things considered. I understood where she was coming from.
“I understand,” I said. “But if you decide you do have feelings for him and want to make a move, we’ll definitely support you.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Of course,” Persephone agreed.
“Now,” I said, “let’s use a little magic and get you both cleaned up. It wouldn’t do to have the boys see you all sweaty.”
“I’m pretty sure that would just turn Terry on,” Persephone said. Ugh. I do not need to have something in common with that psychopath. I didn’t comment aloud. I just started using my magic to clean away their sweat.
No sooner had I finished than there was a commotion from the other room, so we ran to check on it. And you’re not going to believe what we found. I mean, really, I guess, it’s par for the course. We’re pretty weird. But still, come on, this was too much for us.
“I thought violence solves everything?” Persephone asked with a smirk as we all stared at Terry.
Terry flailed, trying to block Zorka’s broom swing. “I just haven’t applied enough violence yet!” he shouted. “Emily, go get my rocket launcher!”
“But I’m fighting the boss right now!” the girl complained.
“Let your friend have a turn and go right now, young lady!”
She rolled her eyes, but handed the Coffin Man the controller and ran off, only to be caught by the collar by her mother. “You are not using that thing in the house.”
Terry rolled his eyes – I wonder where Emily gets it, eh? – and kicked at the kikimora, who dodged back. “Fine! Zeus, sic her!”
The next few moments are a blur, but when it was over, Burin was a dragon – and covered in pudding – I had mashed potatoes in my hair, Zorka had retreated into her little magic hiding hole, Terry’s gun had been knocked from his hand, discharging at Anastasia but luckily Gregor was there to catch the bullet and Persephone was just staring at the chaos with a befuddled look on her face.
We were dead silent and near motionless for nearly a minute when the calm was suddenly broken by the exuberant shout of Emily. “I did it!” she shouted, accompanied by the sound of video game victory fanfare.
It was so absurd, all of it. Of course we all began laughing. And didn’t stop for a solid five minutes. Thankfully, I don’t need to breathe, because I would have passed out if I did.
The next few days were mostly uneventful. We played games. Persephone brokered a truce with Zorka. And we genuinely just rested, even if being stuck in such close proximity was getting a bit grating. And then the hut came to a stop.
Anastasia demanded to come along, and Greta wanted to come as well. With the former not remaining behind, we really couldn’t justify leaving the latter, even despite my worries that she might not be fully recovered. We even invited the Coffin Man, but he said that the terms of his deal with “his cousin” were that he had to remain in the hut. Which was fine, but the way he was looking over at the gaming console while he said it made me wonder if he was being completely honest.
And then we went outside, though Terry realized he’d forgotten something just before we exited and ran back to get it. So we stepped out into the crisp mountain air. Immediately, Gregor seemed surprised. I followed his gaze and spotted the Old Man, the one who had saved us against Typhon Lee so long ago.
“Wait here,” the fighter said grimly as he went over to talk with his temporary mentor, his “god of martial arts”.
As we waited, I looked around. The place was harsh, but peaceful. Even beautiful, in its own way.
We sat in silence, unable to hear the conversation over the winds through the mountain pass. We didn’t even hear the door open behind us. But we did hear Terry let out a whistle of surprise. “Huh. What are we doing here?” he asked.
“You know this place?” Burin asked.
“Yeah, we’re just outside of Sergei’s monastery. Though I guess we’ll want to take the long road, unless you all feel like climbing up the cliff face.”
Next week's special episode will be the story of how Terry first came to Sergei's monastery, which explains why I've been waiting to post it even though Terry's player wrote it months ago. :P
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“I’m not.”
“This guy’s no joke. One of the best fighters in the nation. Maybe the best that Typhon doesn’t own. He’ll break you like a twig if you sass him.” Pops the dwarf gestured to himself. “Of course, I wouldn’t let him hurt you much, Terry.”
“No. Of course not,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Typhon Lee was Pop’s employer. A big time boss-part or all dragon, the rumors were-who some called a criminal mastermind and others a benevolent savior. Me? I didn’t really care. As long as he pays me what I’m owed whenever I join the syndicate, he can call himself whatever he wants.
I tried my best to zone Pops out, focusing on driving the carriage through the forest trail. A near full moon hung above us, partly obscured by heavy clouds. The true beginning of winter was a few days off, yet the first layers of snow and frost covered the land and the surrounding trees. My black coat pushed back most of the cold, yet I was still having trouble feeling my face and I was pretty sure an icicle was forming at the tip of my nose. Next to me, Pops was covered in thick layers of clothing and an ushanka hat he’d made out of an old grizzly bear.
He munched on some jerky and said through a mouthful, “Who knows. I might leave you with him for a bit. Let him whip you into shape.” The dwarf eyed me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re not always gonna have weapons at hand.”
“Says the dwarf with a weapon literally for a hand.”
He’d removed his prosthetic arm, covered it in blankets, and nestled it in between our baggage, though close enough so that he could just reach over, grab it and put it on in case of an ambush. It was his winter model, so the frost wouldn’t damage it. He’d made it, along with most of our weaponry. My own gun, a rifle, was tucked in a guitar case next to me. There were multiple levels to it. One for the gun and the one for an actual guitar, and a few side compartments for food, ammo, knives, explosives, and anything else that might come in handy. It was heavy, but after lugging it around since the age of six, I’ve gotten used to the weight.
“Pops,” I grunted. “Either tell me why we’re traveling all the way up here, or jump in the back and touch yourself until we actually get there. You keep hyping this guy up without actually telling me why we’re actually meeting him.”
Pops scratched his grizzled chin. “Personal favor,” he finally said. “And what’s the point of taking you in if you can’t be my personal valet?” He reached into his coat and pulled out a letter. He handed it to me and then leaned back, pulling the ushanka down over his eyes. “Sergei knows that I don’t do things for free.”
“Ah,” I said. “So he a noble? King?”
“Worse,” Pops chuckled. “Monk.”
“Monk?” I stared at him and then gestured with the letter to our dark, cold surroundings. “So we’re going through all this for what? Some fanatic’s blessing? Tips on how to light scented candles?”
“I’m sure if the job gets done well and proper he’d grant us both those things,” Pops said amiably. “But a favor owed by Sergei is priceless.”
I scoffed and began to read. The letter’s contents were short and to the point: Bandits. Nearly the entire village burned down with nine innocent people dead. Qualified bounty hunters needed.
I handed the letter back over to him. “Doesn’t say anything about you specifically,” I sneered. “Just bounty hunters.”
“Oh, well isn’t it just the damnest of coincidences that I just so happen to be one of the best bounty hunters who’s ever lived? Maybe the best,” Pops shot back dryly. He turned around and climbed into the back of the carriage. “Now just keep going straight. Big g~*@@+n monastery. Can’t miss it unless you’re blind or brain damaged. While you do that, I’ma just be back here sleeping-”
“Playing with yourself,” I interjected.
“Hey, I don’t tell you how to live your life,” Pops grunted.
“Yes you do,” I said under my breath. “Every single day of it.”
After that, besides repetitive grunts from the back of the carriage, the trip through the forest was a quiet one. It wasn’t until a few more hours had passed that I spotted the monastery off in the distance. Pops was right. It was definitely hard to miss. The building itself was situated at the very top and edge of a mountainous cliff. I spotted a trail curving up around the mountain, though it looked rocky and unstable. Just looking at it made my legs ache. Unless this Sergei guy was already waiting for us there, we were going to have to leave the horses and carriage at the base of the mountain. “Pops,” I called over my shoulder. “Pops!”
I leaned over and pulled back the blanket he’d crawled under. He was gone.
“Bastard,” I hissed just as a twig snapped to my left. I dropped the reins and grabbed for my guitar case. A blur of movement came from by the trees. I didn’t have time to draw my gun. I swung the case across my chest like a shield. It took the brunt of my assailant’s kick but the wind was still knocked out of my lungs. Next thing I knew I was flying through the air, towards a second thief.
My hand was already in motion, reaching into my coat. My fingers curled around one of three alchemical sound grenades Pops had given to me for my last birthday. I tossed it over my shoulder, hitting the thief in the face. A piercing bang filled the sky. It spooked both thieves, along with knocking one of them onto their ass. It also spooked the horses. They neighed hysterically and bolted forward just as I landed in the snow.
The first thief leapt towards a nearby tree, caught ahold of a low hanging tree branch, and swung himself towards me. He did all this in under a second.
Lucky for me, I got my gun out in under half that time. I shot him pointblank-but he managed to twist midair, taking the bullet to the shoulder instead of the head. I ducked and rolled forward. He flew over me and landed with a grunt of pain, painting the snow with his blood. I whirled around to finish him off.
A kick to the shins sent me to the ground. It was like being hit with a brick. I landed flat on my back. The thief I’d hit with the grenade pounced on top of me, wrapped his hand around my throat.
And I jammed my gun up into his groin.
“Your…move,” I sneered as pressure was applied to my windpipes. My forefinger danced on the trigger…If I was gonna die here I was definitely taking this guy’s package with me…
“ENOUGH!”
The thief immediately released my throat, jumped off me and stood at attention. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted his comrade get to his feet and do the same, his bleeding shoulder be damned. I scrambled to my feet and jerked my gun between the two repeatedly in case they tried something. I needn’t have bothered. Footsteps sounded to my rear. Shooting the thieves one last suspicious glance, I turned around.
I wasn’t particularly surprised to see Pops walking towards me. He had his metal arm on and was grinning ear to ear. With it he playfully nudged the man walking next to him up in the ribs. “Think I won that one,” he laughed. “Pay up.”
The man frowned down at the dwarf. “There was never any bet to begin with, Popovic,” he said, though his tone was a mildly amused one. He was a thickly built man, but old and lined. In his prime he would have been intimidating. A real monster. But age had brought along with it a slight hunch and a searching look to his eyes. As if he were constantly trying to see beyond what was right in front of him. He was also wearing a set of green robes. I noticed the thieves were wearing identical sets.
“You’re just saying that because your kids lost,” Pops pouted. He made his way towards me.
I aimed my gun at his head.
“Explain. Now.”
Pops gaped at me. “You wouldn’t!”
“Oh we both know I would,” I said evenly.
After a moment Pops nodded in agreement. “Yeah. You would.” Looking mildly sad about that harsh truth, he gestured around to the three men in green. “Meet Sergei and his disciples. Or at least some of them. Think of them like the welcome committee. Sergei wasn’t so sure about giving you the job so I told him to put his money where his mouth was-”
“It was a metaphorical bet,” the old monk said. “No actual money was promised.”
“-and pit his best students against you,” Pops finished. He gave me a metallic thumbs up. “And you fought them to a standstill. That’s winning in my book. Congrats.”
“Job?” I said. After a moment I lowered the gun.
Sergei approached his students. Now out of the heat of battle I got a chance to really look at them. They were maybe a little older than me but not by much. The one I’d shot had walked up to stand next to his comrade. His right arm was now completely stained with blood. Even then his eyes were unyielding, giving no sign that he was in pain.
Sergei spoke to him first. “Vasily, you grew arrogant in that precious last second before contact was made. Shifted your weight too eagerly, causing the tree branch to crack. Never consider a battle won until the last blow is dealt. Otherwise you have already been defeated. Understood?”
“Yes, master,” Vasily said.
Sergei turned to his companion. He was the larger of the two, with a blonde beard that reflected the moonlight. “I am impressed by your commitment, Hrein. Though the fact that you found yourself in such a compromising position shows that you’re lacking in experience fighting armed opponents. We will have to remedy that. Perhaps a few days of training under constant gunfire will do.” He looked back to Pops. “If Sir Popovic would be willing to provide the firearms.”
Pops beamed.
“Willing?” he laughed. “I love shooting kids!”
Hrein’s expression faltered under Pop’s smile. Yet it recomposed by the time Sergei returned his attention to him and Vasily. “I hunger for the challenge, master,” he said.
Pops rubbed his mismatched hands together. “Oh, boy, I am going to f!+! you up,” he cackled.
Color drained from Hrein’s cheeks but otherwise he didn’t react. Sergei sidestepped and gestured to the monastery beyond. “Go. Clean yourself, Vasily, and track down our guests’ carriage, Hrein. And afterwards see if young Gregor’s finally made it up the cliff, will you?”
“Yes, master,” they said unison and bolted past him. They ran with their arms hanging out behind them. It would’ve looked stupid if they weren’t moving so fast. I watched them go before turning my attention to Sergei. The monk was looking me up and down critically. He didn’t look impressed. But he didn’t look unimpressed either. Mildly bewildered would have been the right word for it.
“What?” I said a little defensively.
“Terrance Guiser.” He said my name slowly and clearly, as if trying it out on his tongue. His eyes flickered to Pops. “Has the boy joined Lee’s syndicate yet?”
“Not officially,” Pops answered.
Sergei nodded. “Very well. He will do.”
“Wait, hold up, pause, calm your horses, put a bookmark in it, yeah?” I looked between the two of them. “What the actual hell is going on?!”
#
“Bandits struck the town of Swindle near a month past,” Sergei told me. Hrein had come back with the carriage and we’d taken the long way around to the monastery. Apparently Sergei and his disciples just regularly climbed up and down the cliff whenever they were coming or going. Man, these guys were monsters. In hindsight Pops making me kill my puppy didn’t seem so bad. At least comparatively.
Sergei had led us through the monastery where a good number of under disciples trained. One of them couldn’t have been older than six or seven. The kid trailed after Vasily, who’d bandaged himself up, looking exhausted but eager for his next test. Vasily spotted me and Pops and shot a glare in my direction. I innocently scratched my cheek with my middle finger.
And I sometimes wonder why I don’t have any friends.
Sergei led us into his private chambers. There were lit candles everywhere but no bed or cot. The floor was stone and freezing to the touch. Even then Sergei sat down, legs crossed beneath him. Pops grunted as he plopped down across him. After a moment’s hesitation I did the same. And then Sergei began to explain:
“Swindle is a trading town. My students and I have done favors for it in the past. As with any place, there is darkness festering in its alleys. Yet the majority of the people there are good. Simply trying to make a living.” With a hand he gestured to the candles. “It’s where I get my candles from. At a decent price, mind you.”
“I thought monks didn’t believe in earthly possession,” Pops said.
“Yes,” Sergei said. “But with hundreds of students training day in and day out, the monastery can get quite smelly. I’m sure the God of Martial Arts will not mind the compromise.” He then carried on with his story as if he hadn’t been interrupted, speaking directly to me as he did so, “These bandits looted the shops, burning a few of them to the ground after they were done. A few of the survivors are currently being tended to as we speak.” He voice lowered slightly as he added, “Tended and chained down.”
I frowned. “Chained down?”
Sergei looked to Pops.
“What have you taught him of werewolves?” he asked.
“To run fast and not look back,” Pops and I answered in unison.
Sergei sighed. “I was hoping for more. Or at least something.”
“So I’m guessing these bandits are werewolves?” I asked. A chill of fear ran down my back as I said it. I’d heard stories. Men and women who could transform into wolves either by will or by the light of the full moon. And not just wolves. Some of them could transform into tigers, lions, or bears. Oh my. I’d even heard legends about a particularly nasty werechicken that had taken nearly fifty armed men to take down.
Sergei shook his head. “No. Just one. Their leader. Westina Kestral.”
Pops made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “B*!!~,” he said. “Literally.”
“Your master has history with Westina,” Sergei told me.
“He’s not my master,” I said at once. I then turned to Pops. “So what’s the deal with this werewolf lady? You sleep with her or something?”
“Please,” Pops said in disgust. “I have standards.”
“No you don’t,” I said.
“When it comes to her I actually do.” He leaned back up on his arms and stared up at the ceiling in recollection. “She was one of Typhon’s generals once. An active one. A real murder machine that one, especially under the light of the full moon. But she was smart. After every battle she’d have her subordinates round up the wounded and she’d give them a choice. Either die as a man or join Typhon as a freshly made werewolf.”
He shook his head. “People fear death more than anything else, Terry. And that fear can convince them to become monsters. Because of Westina, Typhon had his own personal faction of werewolf soldiers at his command.”
Pop’s lips pulled back into a snarl. “But then she got too high and mighty for her britches. She and her army of dogs tried to stage a coup. Typhon burned every single mongrel except her to the ground. And then afterwards he had all of her teeth pulled out and iron pressed into her gums so they wouldn’t grow back. So that she could never curse another soul again. Effectively neutered, he sent her off in shame. And that was the last time anyone in the organization had seen her. Walking off into the horizon with her tail between her legs.”
“Up until a month ago,” I said. I turned to Sergei, who’d been listening to Pop’s story in silence. “Any idea why she’d show up now? Hit Swindle specifically?”
“Of that I don’t know,” Sergei said a tad too quickly. “Yet I have sent a few of my students to scope out the town. Strictly for reconnaissance. No direct contact was to be made. Yesterday Vasily and Hrein returned. The bandits have set up a camp a day’s travel from here. All that they stole from Swindle is still with them. It is my belief that they intend to raid the town once more before departing.”
“Either that or Kestral’s going to try and recruit the townsfolk she cursed,” Pops said. “She told me once that it was much easier after they’d experienced the pain of the first change. That they’d do anything to make it easier, to be able to master the transformation.”
“Yeah but you said Typhon Lee took away her teeth,” I pointed out. “How is she changing people now?”
“Magic?” Pops offered halfheartedly.
“Speaking of Lee,” Sergei said carefully. “I respect the man but I refuse to align myself with his organization. So far he has honored my wishes. Yet I do not wish to press me luck, or risk the independence of my students, by owing him or those under his employ any favors.”
He looked pointedly at Pops as he said this. Pops scoffed and waved a dismissive hand.
“Yet if what Popovic says is true, then I will show no such hesitation in owing you, Terry, a favor in the future. That is, if you manage to eradicate these bandits and restore peace to Swindle.”
I stared at him, at a loss. It took me a second to regain my bearings. “Wait.” I pointed to the door. “You have hundreds of super monks out there. Why not send them?”
Sergei’s eyes fell to his lap. “Because they are my sons,” he said quietly. “And I’d rather them die a man’s death then potentially be swayed by that beast woman into becoming monsters.”
The sincerity in his words hurt my heart. Was that what having a parent would be like? Having someone care whether you lived or died. I knew Pops cared about me. But it was more like the way a kid cares about a toy. The moment I broke, he’d throw me aside and get a new one.
I exhaled deeply. “Okay. I’ll do it.” I got to my feet and hitched my guitar case up. “On the condition that, when I make it back,” I pointed an accusatory finger at Pops, “I can use this place to get away from him. At least for a little while.”
Pops pressed his metal hand to his heart. “Terry, that really hurts,” he whined. “And here I was considering getting you a new kitty for your birthday.”
“I hate cats,” I said coldly.
Plus you’d probably make me kill it anyway.
I held my hand out to Sergei.
Yet the monk hesitated.
“If or when you officially join Lee’s organization, I will not object to upholding this deal,” he said slowly and clearly, like one might read aloud a binding contract. “Yet if you bring chaos into my monastery, or I get any inkling that you are trying to recruit any of my students to his cause, I will show you no mercy, Terrance Guiser.”
“Life hasn’t shown me any mercy,” I told him. “Why should I expect any different from you?”
That actually brought a smile to his aged face.
We shook hands.
I had the monastery to my back as the first rays of dawn began to shine across the horizon.
#
Swindle had clearly been a wreck even before the werewolf lady decided to stop on by. The town itself was composed of thousands of colorful shacks, all decorated with tacky decorations, doodads, and all manner of merchandise. Even with the steady fall of snow, vendors were still screaming at the top of their lungs, showing off their wares to passerbyes who had the misfortune of wandering too close.
I was one such victim. A dark, elderly woman kept trying to sell me “performance enhancers.” No matter how hard I tried to get away, she just kept chasing after me, saying that it was my duty as a man to satisfy my woman. She screamed over me when I tried to tell her that I didn’t have a woman or any plans on getting one anytime soon. Yet the lady was persistent. I ended up coughing up seven silver just get her to shut up and leave me alone. I watched her go, jar of orange dirt in hand.
“You and I seriously have different definitions of ‘good people,’ Sergei,” I muttered, stuffing the jar into my coat. I’d give it to Pops. If I was lucky it’d do something potentially harmful to the perverted dwarf’s bits.
I then made my way towards the heart of Swindle. The deeper in I ventured, the more and more signs of vandalism I noticed. The heavy smell of smoke still lingered in the air even after a month. Shacks blackened. Some of them had caved in on themselves. Despite the cold season, I spotted a crow here and there picking at burned down tombs. Likely trying to get to the bodies that hadn’t been scavenged out yet. I drew a bandana from my coat pocket and wrapped it around the lower half of my face to ward off the lingering smell of death.
Near half an hour in was when I found the first claw marks in the street. I hunkered down and ran my fingers across it. Five marks. The width of each twice that of my thumb. More marks like it kept going down the street before abruptly stopping. I guessed that this was the point where Kestrel had changed back to human and rejoined her posse with the loot. I stood up and looked around. Any and all bodies had either been burned or buried. Any more clues I could have found had already been stripped from the scene, either by street rats or, maybe, a few members of Westina’s gang coming back to do clean up. Nothing more to find here. Yet there was one more thing I wanted to do before checking out the forest.
By the third person I asked, I knew were to go. Though it cost me three silver pieces each. Damn these people knew how to haggle! The shack in question was near the edge of town. Dream catchers adorned the walls and windows. They were well crafted and decorated with dyed bird feathers. Muffled cries sounded out from the back. Never much to mind manners, I let myself in and entered into the back room. A girl was lying on a cot, sweating profusely. She was shirtless except for bandages that covered her stomach and chest. A man and a woman, likely her parents, kneeled over her. The mother pressed a wet cloth to her daughter’s brow while the father stared on, looking dejected.
I knocked on the doorframe.
“Um, hello.”
The man and woman jumped. The woman immediately leaned across her daughter protectively while the man got to his feet. “What do you want?!” he screamed at me. “We already told you no!”
He moved to shove me. I sidestepped him, ducking further into the room. He stumbled forward and then whirled around, eyes livid. “She’s my daughter!” he screamed, charging at me, his fist raised. “Not a monster!”
He was emotional. He wouldn’t have noticed a cow if it had spontaneously appeared in the room and mooed in his ear. It was all too easy to duck his punches. I then grabbed both his arms and slammed him to the ground. I placed my foot between his shoulder blades and gave his arms a twist. Not enough to break them but enough to let him know that I could if I really wanted to.
“Are you Renn Wormwood?” I asked calmly while the woman sobbed.
“Y-yes,” he murmured, half his face pressed to the floor.
I looked to the girl. “And that’s your daughter. Bunny.”
“Yes,” he said again.
“A month ago she was attacked by a werewolf,” I said. “She and dozens other like her are about to change tonight.” I looked around the room and spotted thick, rusted chains in the far corner. “And you’re already prepping for it.” I let Renn go. He scurried away back to his wife and child, gasping. “Be easier to kill her.”
A nasty laugh burst from Renn’s lips.
“Easy?” he snarled. “She is my daughter!”
“And in a few hours she’s going to become a blood thirsty dog who’d likely rip both you and your wife’s throats out without a second thought accept, ’Ooh, this is yummy, where can I get more?’” I shot back.
The woman fixed me with a hateful glare.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“A traveling bard,” I lied, jerking a thumb at my guitar case. “And also a werewolf hunter.”
Their eyes widened in horror. I could see both of them getting back up and trying to attack me if I didn’t do damage control real fast. So I said, “Relax. I only kill wolves that have a red ledger. Ones who have already killed people. Your daughter’s safe. From me at least. To everyone else she’s a ticking time bomb.”
I showed them my hands. “But what I’m really after is the type of wolf who doesn’t hunt to kill, but to curse. A month back your town got hit by one such wolf. And I’m here to see if you had any information I could use to track her.”
“Her?” Renn repeated.
“Yeah. Her.” I looked between them. “Did either of you actually see your daughter get attacked?”
They shook their heads.
“No,” the woman said. She reached over and resumed wiping her moaning daughter’s forehead with the cloth. “Bunny liked to sneak out, scavenge. Steal food from other vendors. She knew we weren’t doing so well. So I think…” A fear rolled down her cheek. “She went looking for things to put on the dream catchers, so they’d sell better.”
“They found her among a pile of bodies,” Renn told me. “Clinging to life.”
Okay. Now we were getting somewhere.
“You told me that you’d already told me no,” I said. “Who did you think I was?”
“There are men and a young boy going around town, claiming to have a cure,” Renn said. “But they say the cure’s out of town, a least a week by horseback. All this past month they’ve been going around to the families of the survivors, promising free transport for those who choose to come. They even offered money to the families. They say they have resources to keep the survivors safe during a full moon. Keep them from hurting themselves or others…”
I saw the hope in his eyes. But Renn was a smart man. Even in his grief he knew that-
“It’s too good to be true,” I said. “There has to be catch.”
Renn nodded. He looked over his shoulder at his daughter.
“Three nights out of the month,” he said weekly. “Outside of that, she’ll be my daughter. She is my daughter…My baby Bunny.”
Part of me wanted to call him a fool. Wanted to go over and shoot the girl, put her out of her misery.
But I didn’t.
Whatever monster Bunny Wormwood became it was her parents’ job to deal with. And if they failed, I’d come back. And I would show her no mercy.
I returned my thoughts to the objective at hand. “Do you know where they were supposed to round up the survivors?” I asked Renn.
“A few hours north of here, by the waterfall,” he told me.
With that I thanked them and exited the room.
I was already outside and making my way down the street when his wife suddenly burst through the door. I stopped walking and turned, allowing her to catch up to me. She had a dream catcher in her hand. The yarn was black with dark feathers. She pressed it into my hands and said breathlessly, “Raven feathers.”
“…Okay?”
“The type of feather changes the specialty of the dream catcher,” she explained to me. “Not just dreams. Illness. Death.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, “A dream catcher adorned with raven feathers will cause even death to hesitate in smiting its wearer. If only for a second. And that second-”
“Can mean everything in a fight.” The dream catcher had a noose fashioned at the top. She watched me as I put it on and tucked it beneath my shirt. “Thank you.”
She stared up at me, eyes red and questioning.
Yet her voice was iron as she said, “Kill that b#&%~.”
“I intend to.”
And so back into the woods I went.
#
Walking through the snow, searching for werewolves, got my thinking about Zigzag. He’d been a mutt Pops had found in an alley during one of his missions when I was five. He’d brought it back home (a little pink cottage on a small island in the middle of the ocean) and given him to me to care for. The puppy was lame. Some scuffle with other, bigger dogs had left his hind right leg sticking out at an angle. He could still walk but not run. I’d named him Zigzag because of a lightning-shaped mark on his back.
I loved Zigzag. He was my friend.
Kept me company while Pops was away on missions.
And then one day Pops had come back to the island with another boy. Vincent. He resembled a weasel. It was loathing at first sight. The cottage was already crowded as it was with all of Pop’s inventions and weapons. There was also only two bedrooms, meaning Vincent and I had to share. Usually I cuddled with Zigzag in my arms.
Zigzag saved my life.
Vincent had stolen one of Pop’s small swords, stuffed it under his cot. He’d waited until I was asleep and tiptoed up next to me, sword raised. He would have killed me if Zigzag hadn’t jumped out of my arms and bit his leg, tripping him over. The fall had knocked the sword out of his hand. Instantly wide awake, I dove for the sword and aimed it at Vincent’s throat.
But then I froze.
He had both hands around Zigzag’s throat, squeezing the life out of the puppy’s body. Zigzag didn’t even have enough air to whimper in pain.
“Drop the sword, or I kill the rat,” Vincent hissed.
I looked from him to Zigzag.
And tossed the sword away.
That’s when Pops entered the room. Vincent immediately dropped the dog and pointed to his bleeding leg. “Terry’s dog attacked me!” he whined.
“I saw that,” Pops yawned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He turned to me. “After this little toad here tried to gut you, Terry. But then you had him dead to rights. Why didn’t you take it? Take revenge?”
My bottom lip quivered.
“H-he was gonna hurt Zigzag-”
I didn’t see the punch coming. If it had been from his prosthetic hand, the wall would have been painted with bits of my skull and brain. Yet Pop’s meaty fist still sent me to my knees, made me see stars. Next thing I knew he was standing over me, holding Zigzag over my face by the scruff of his neck. My puppy stared at me with large, brown eyes. He even tried to lick my face, to tell me everything was going to be okay.
“You sacrificed vengeance for this?” Pops asked incredulously. He dropped Zigzag onto my lap. He then went over, retrieved the sword, came back and forced it into my hand. “Kill the dog, Terry.”
I stared at Pops in horror. Vincent had slinked back into the far corner, grinning.
“No, Pops, please!” Tears fell across my cheeks. “But…but Zigzag’s my friend!”
Pops stared at me long and hard before taking the sword from me. “Follow me. Bring the dog.” He glowered at Vincent who quickly stopped smiling. “You stay here. I’ll deal with you later.”
Numb, I followed after Pops, clutching Zigzag to my chest. I followed him down into the workshop. There were other versions of his prosthetic, along with more swords, guns, and a lone guitar case in the far corner. There was a large, metal door at the far end of the room. Pops unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and unlocked it. He then walked in, gesturing for me to follow. The room’s walls were adorned with maps and volumes of books. I walked past Pops and turned around in a circle, staring at all the maps and books in wonder.
“You’re not leaving until you kill the dog.”
With that Pops closed the door on me. Leaving me alone in the dark with only Zigzag for company.
There was food. Wartime rations in case of an attack. Me and Zigzag shared them. There was no place to go to the bathroom. Eventually it began to smell. Every morning (at least I think it was morning, there was no way to tell time) Pops would knock on the door and call out, “Dog dead?”
Sometimes I pleaded. Sometimes I lied, told him that Zigzag was already dead. But somehow he always knew I was lying. I spent nearly two months in there.
I loved Zigzag. He was my friend.
But in the end it was either him or me.
#
The waterfall wasn’t too hard to find. Icy water flowed down from it into a ravine that ran through the forest. I approached at a slow, precise pace. In hindsight I needn’t have bothered being quiet. A kid’s incessant wailing drowned out whatever noise I would have made. I crept low and peaked out from behind a frosty bush. Quite a few people had gathered around the waterfall. A few of them wore bandages like Bunny and looked rather sickly. Some were kids, others were elderly. A few family members had come with them to say their heartfelt goodbyes. Either that or collect the money they’d been promised. Yet even the sickliest of the cursed victims wasn’t crying. No they were all staring at the boy a ways off, balling his eyes off.
He stood in between a pair of thugs. They were tall, ugly, and made of muscle. If at least one of them wasn’t at least part orc, than I’m a werechicken. They exchanged wary glances but didn’t comment as the kid continued to cry.
“This is soooo saaaaaaaaad!” he blubbered, rubbing at his puffy face. He was a skinny kid, on the cusp of becoming a teenager. His shaggy brown hair hung over his right eye while a grey sword tattoo marked the left side of his face. “F-families torn apart…I-I c-can’t deal with this!” Snot ran down his upper lip. “I...I…I think I’m gonna cry!!!!”
Neither thug pointed out to the kid that he was already crying.
I rolled my eyes and stepped out from behind the bush. I kept my arms in full view as I approached. Even then the thugs tensed. One of them, the likely part-orc, drew a curved blade from his belt. The kid hiccupped and immediately ducked behind the pair.
“W-who are you?” he squeaked at me.
“Travelling bard,” I told him. “And a wolf.”
“W-wolf?” the kid repeated, eyes growing large.
“Yup. Heard stories that you fellas had a cure.” I showed them my hands. “I’ve got the money and the time if you’re willing to take me in. I’m not so bad in a fight either, if you’re expecting any trouble.”
Hesitantly the kid stepped out from behind the thugs. “W-we don’t want any trouble, mister. We j-just want to help people.” His eyes began to brim with tears again. He rushed at me, arms out. I pushed down the instinct to send him sideways with a kick to the head. His scrawny arms closed around me. He buried his face in my chest, staining my shirt with snot. “Of course we’ll help you!”
“You go through the change yet?” the orcish thug asked, his eyes slits.
“Now, Brody, that’s so rude!” the kid cried. He dislodged himself from my person and clasped his hands together. “B-but he’s got a point, mister. Have you?”
“Kept waking up in the woods around my home, covered in animal guts every month,” I said. “Wasn’t so bad. But then last month I woke up in a farmer’s barn. Ate him, his wife, kids, and his cow. Would’ve been lynched if I hadn’t made a run for it.” I pressed a hand to my heart. “Honestly I’d be content to go on being the way I am if I didn’t have a sweetheart back home. I can’t go back to her a wolf…” My voice broke. “…A monster.”
Some of the women in the crowd who’d been listening in had begun to go teary eyed. Suckers.
“And so I came here, hoping-”
I stopped. The kid was looking up at me, face contorted into an emotional wreck. The sword on his face was scrunched up, now resembling more a crooked cross than a sword. “OF COURSE WE’LL HELP YOU!” he wailed again, throwing his arms around me again.
I’ve never wanted to hit a kid more in my life.
The thugs were clearly wary of me but they held their tongues. Instead the more human looking one called out, “Get your goodbyes out of the way. We need to leave before sunset!”
Final hugs and kisses were exchanged while the thugs went around giving out the money. Meanwhile the kid pulled me towards a trail leading away from the waterfall, deeper into the forest. “I’m Splott, what’s your name?”
“Emilio Abraxas,” I said. Nobody except me and Pops knew my middle name. It wasn’t in Lee’s records as far as either of us knew. As for Abraxas, I just thought it sounded cool. “Pleasure to meet you, Splott.”
“Y-you really mean that?!” he gasped, punching the air with excitement. “Making friends is fun!” Splott blinked and then rubbed at his shoulders anxiously. “I…I don’t have a lot of friends.”
Maybe it’s because you’re a f~$+ing crybaby, I thought. Out loud I said, “Hey, Splott, we need all the friends we can get. How’s about we be pals?”
“Pals?!”
He hugged me again. What was with this kid and hugging?
Soon enough we were being followed by the thugs and the survivors. The part-orc followed at the rear of the group while his partner kept pace with me and Splott. Splott led the way, whining about how scary the forest ways, all the ways you could die, and how saaaaaaaaad he was about what had happened to Swindle. I half-listened to his ramblings, answering politely when he asked a question, always keeping my answers vague if I could, and generally just trying to control my homicidal impulse to shoot the kid in the face. While I did that, I scouted our surroundings. Carriage tracks appeared an hour into the trek, along with boot marks. They were fresh. By the look of them, I guessed that, besides Splott and the two thugs, Kestral had to have at least five or six more goons on her payroll.
This gave me options. My first instinct was to shoot Splott and the two thugs right here and now and follow the tracks back to Westina and the rest of the bandits. Yet I didn’t how long the trail went on for. If it took hours to reach their camp, then I’d likely arrive there after nightfall.
I glanced back to the survivors. They followed, cold, confused, but hopeful for a cure. Even if I managed to kill Westina, I still had them to deal with. I didn’t like the odds of me making it out of the woods with over a dozen fresh-faced, hungry werewolves on my tail.
“Hey, Splott,” I said casually. “People I talked to said you fellas had a way to transport us. Even after we’d changed.”
“Oh!” Splott thumped his forehead with the palm of his hand. He turned around and waved his arms back and forth. “Hey, e-everybody!” He called out. The thugs and the survivors came to a halt. Splott stumbled back under the combined force of their gaze. “…Um…I was…I was supposed to g-give you something…”
He reached into his coat and produced a wrapped package. With trembling fingers he unwrapped it. Revealing a series of small vials. He handed one to me and the rest to the thug standing beside him. “C-can you hand these out, Ivan? Please?”
Ivan took the vials and began handing them out to the survivors. There were a few vials left over, clearly meant for those who had decided to stay in Swindle. He then returned, handing them back to Splott. I looked my own vial over. It was a tiny thing, barely larger than a thimble. It was filled with a clear liquid.
“The cure?” I asked.
“Oh no!” Splott said hastily before the survivors could get their hopes up. He squeaked out to them all, “These are all r-really, really strong sleep potions! T-they’ll knock you out for a whole twelve hours straight. If timed c-correctly they’ll let you all sleep through the entire transformation.” He pocketed the vials left over. “But please take only what we give you. T-too much and it could kill you, so…please don’t steal…I…I…”
His face scrunched up again, his eyes welled with tears.
“I DON’T WANNA SEE ANYBODY DIE!”
Sigh…Have I mentioned that I really wanna kill this kid?
I touched his shoulder. “Splott, it’s getting dark,” I said gently. “Maybe we should get going, buddy?”
He wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded vigorously.
“C-come on! She’s waiting!”
It was at least another hour before we made it to the camp. The sun was dangerously low by this point, and the survivors were eyeing their vials of sleep potion apprehensively. I heard the rest of the bandits well before we saw them. A campfire had been set up, pushing back the falling snow with warm light. I followed close behind Splott, close enough to grab and use as a hostage if need be. Yet he then bounded forward out of my reach, nearly tripping twice, and called out, “We’re here!”
The bandits huddled around the fire, five of them, glanced over, curious. One was another part orc, probably the other thug’s brother or cousin, while the rest were simply grimy, tattooed brutes. One of them, a red-bearded man of maybe forty, had a rifle slung across his back. I made a mental note to take him out first the moment s$%~ hit the fan. I wasn’t particularly worried about losing in a gun fight, but I didn’t want Red Beard providing cover for Westina and the others in case they decided to run.
Carriages were parked in the shadows cast by the campfire. Supplies and loot had already been loaded up, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. No, my eyes were drawn to the iron cages they’d set up. Designed like birdcages, they were covered in frost. Each and every one was the same size: just big enough to house you’re average person, give or take a little breathing room. I wasn’t the only one to notice the cages. The survivors had begun to murmur amongst themselves, with some pointing at the cages, clearly second guessing whether the cure was worth it.
A whistle rang through the camp, immediately killing the whispers.
Amongst the quintet of mean muscles and tattoos, I’d actually overlooked her. She was sitting atop a wooden treasure chest, roasting a slab of meat on a stick over the fire. I guess I’d been expecting an animalistic amazon or something. Instead she was kind of petite. The freckled skin of her face, neck, and arms was pale, shown off by the sleeveless red tunic she wore over dark pants and boots despite the cold. Reddish-copper hair framed her face, with a few tufts standing on either side of her head like dog ears. Half her face was sharp but pretty. The other half was a mess of pink scars. Apparently Typhon Lee had pressed the iron against more than just her gums. She wore an eye patch over her left eye, along with a pair of round reading glasses over both. Her glasses reflected back the fire’s light, making them shine like a wolf’s eyes at night.
Westina handed the stick of meat over to Red Beard and got to her feet. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to your salvation.” Her teeth shined silver as she spoke. Metal dentures I guessed. “I’m sure you have questions-”
“Mommy!”
Splott tackle-hugged her, nearly sending both of them falling over the treasure chest. Yet Westina regained her footing at the last second. A big smile spread across her face as she ran her fingers through Splott’s hair affectionately. “Whoa now, puppy, you trying to kill mama?” she laughed. “You really need to get a handle on those muscles of yours.”
“I-I’m sorry!” Splott said at once. He buried his face against her chest, crying. “I just missed you so much!”
“It’s only been a few hours, puppy,” Westina said tenderly, holding him to her, resting her scarred cheek against the top of his head. “But now we’re together. And you brought new members of the family.”
Her functional eye returned to the survivors. It traveled from one face to the next before finally settling on me.
“As I was saying, you all likely have questions,” she continued. She turned to Ivan and the half-orc who’d walked over to rejoin the circle. “Did you give them the vials?” The pair nodded. “Good, good.” She resumed speaking to the crowd. “Exactly a month tonight you were all attacked by a creature of unrestrained strength and ferocity. A god amongst wolves. The alpha of alphas. And yet you survived to tell the tale. You’re standing before me with that same wonderful power coursing through your veins.”
“Wonderful power?” one of the older survivors, a weathered man, said incredulously. “It’s a g%##@%n curse!”
There were nods of agreement amongst the survivors. I watched on, trying to keep my face as blank and unopinionated as possible. Yet I couldn’t help noticing how dark the sky was now. The sun’s last rays of light were quickly fading. Soon enough the moon would be out. Full and ivory and the trigger to unleashing the beasts inside these people’s souls. I crossed my arms across my chest, keeping my hands as close to my guitar case as possible. All while keeping my eyes focused on Westina.
She gently dislodged herself from her son and climbed up on top of the treasure chest. “I speak now to all the women in the crowd. Those who’ve had lovers. Did it not hurt that first night? Did you not bleed? Yet eventually-well, if your partner was at least adequate at it-the pain was replaced by orgasmic bliss-”
“Mom, this is so embarrassing!” Splott whined, covering his ears. “I don’t like thinking about you having s-sex!”
“Shhh, puppy, mommy’s making a point,” Westina muttered out of the corner of her mouth. She then said to the crowd, “Pain is a part of change. We have given you each a vial to stave off consciously experiencing tonight’s transformation. You will each be given two more vials, one for tomorrow and the night after. Yet the following month there will be no such reprieve. You will experience the glory, the power of being a wolf.”
“B-but what about the cure?” one of the women called out.
Westina’s smile died, replaced by a blank, scarred stare as she said what all of the survivors had known all along to be true, “There is no cure.”
In unison the bandits by the fire got to their feet. Red Beard drew his rifle. A few of the survivors had edged back the moment Westina had made her confession, on the cusp of running. They hesitated at the sight of the man’s gun. A few of the survivors, not all of them women, had begun to cry. A few of them were glaring at Westina and the bandits.
I put on a sad face for show. The crestfallen expression of a lonely man who would now forever be separated from his lover blah blah blah. I even pumped out a single tear for dramatic effect.
Westina’s smile returned. “Yet that does not mean all is lost,” she assured the crowd. “We are taking you all to an isolated location, where you can all train to harness this power. Where there will be no chance of any of you harming innocents.” She raised a finger. “I will not lie to you and say that it will be an easy process. Or a quick one. But I will never give up on you. Of that I promise. For I will guide you into becoming the best that you can be.”
Her smile widened, flashing her metal teeth.
“As any mother should.”
The survivors exchanged glances amongst themselves. Gradually the fight or urge to run left their eyes. They gave in to despair. And this despair slowly convinced them to take this woman’s offer. To join her pack.
Ivan touched Westina’s shoulders.
“Ma, it’s almost time,” he said, eyeing the sky.
Westina nodded eagerly. “Right, right!” She pointed at the surrounding cages. “Now, everybody, jump into these transportation units we’ve set up for you. It doesn’t matter who gets into which. They’re all roughly the same. My men will lock you in, just to be on the safe side. And once you’re all inside, you’ll drink your potions. After that we’ll be off and you’ll all wake up to sunrise in no time.”
With no other options, the survivors did as they were told.
Okay, I thought. Now or never.
I couldn’t get into a cage. I just couldn’t. Even if I faked drinking the potion, they’d all figure out I was a fraud when I didn’t change. So I hung back, pretending to readjust my boot while the others climbed in. Red Beard eyed the crowd, clearly looking for the first sign of deserters. Eventually his gaze landed on me and his finger slipped over the trigger of his gun. I flashed him an apologetic smile and straightened up. But instead of heading towards the carriages, I approached Westina and Splott.
Splott was talking excitedly to his mother, talking about how scary the forest was, all the ways you could die, and how saaaaaaaaad he was about what happened to Swindle. Westina listened to his rambling, looking amused. “It was necessary, puppy,” she said gently, tracing his tattooed cheek with her thumb. “And look at all the new friends you’ll have now. New brothers and sisters. Won’t it be great!”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Ivan suddenly stepped into my path. He glowered down at me. Damn. Up close he sure was ugly. And his head was too small for his body. Or maybe his body was too big for his ugly face. Tomato, tomahto? “Hey, quit staring at me, pretty boy. I asked you a question.”
“Your head’s too small,” I decided. “Probably because you’ve got a tiny brain.”
His eyes became livid. He grabbed me by my shirt collar, yanking me a full foot off the ground, guitar case and all.
“Care to repeat that?” he growled, peppering my face with spit.
My hand was already in motion, reaching into my coat for one of the sound grenades, when Splott suddenly cried out, “Ivan, p-put Mister Emilio down right now!...P-please.”
Ivan glared at me a second longer before slowly lowering me back onto my feet.
He then stepped aside to let Splott through. The kid tackle-hugged me. Again with this kid and all the g*@!#&n hugging!
He pulled me over towards his mother, who watched us approach with a guarded but curious expression. “This is Mister Emilio, mom,” Splott told her. “He’s not from Swindle. He’s a bard. He ate a family and c-cow.” Splott suddenly looked up at me, mortified. “Mister Emilio! If there’s no cure, you can’t go back to your girlfriend!”
I put on a defeated but resigned posture.
“I…I guess not,” I said quietly. “But I figure she can do better than some outlaw wolf like me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Westina said, looking me up and down with her eye. There was a hungry look in it that seriously creeped me out. She pointed at my guitar case. “Do you just play, or do you sing as well?”
“I don’t sing well in front of crowds,” I told her. “Not without at least a few drinks in me. And even then ‘well’ might be pushing it.”
That made her laugh.
“Mister Emilio and I are gonna be best friends!” Splott declared.
“Is that so?”
“Yup!”
Westina continued to smile as she looked around the camp. The last of the survivors had been locked up in their cage. That just left me. “How long have you been a wolf, Emilio?” she asked me.
“Like I told your son, not long,” I said. “Didn’t even mind it at first but…Well, you can’t unkill a family. Or a cow for that matter.”
“No. You can’t,” she said in a faraway voice. “And yet that fool Popovic sent you here to kill mine.”
Both semi-orcs jumped me from behind. Or they would have if I hadn’t grabbed Splott and swung him around, slamming his feet into their faces. He screamed out in panic while the thugs stumbled back, more surprised than in any real pain. Yet I barely paid them further mind. I drew a pistol from my back, tucked into the waistband of my pants, and aimed it around, locking it on Red Beard just as he trained his rifle on me.
“Mister Emilio!” Splott cried as I wrapped my free arm around his neck. “W-why are you doing this-Gah?!”
I tightened my hold on the kid, enough to shut him up. Westina’s bandits circled around me, weapons drawn. I couldn’t take my eyes off Red Beard without him shooting me. And I couldn’t reach for a grenade without letting go of Splott, who right now was my only trump card in this situation.
It was blurry and vague but I saw Westina cross her arms over her chest through my peripheral vision. “It’s been over a decade but I never allowed myself to forget that nasty dwarf’s stench,” she said. “Him or any of Lee’s other generals. So imagine my disgust when I smell this one-armed traitor enter this forest, walk alongside my son, with the obvious intent to kill me and all my kin.” Her voice raised an octave, became inquisitive. “But you’re no dwarf. And definitely no wolf. And I don’t smell the slightest trace of Typhon Lee on you. No matter how hard or often you washed, boy, that’s one scent you could never hide from me. You’ve never even stepped foot in the dragon’s presence, have you?”
“I’m my own man,” I said through gritted teeth. “Don’t work for any dragon.”
“Oh, is that so?”
She stepped around her thugs and into my line of sight.
“Then either you’re incredibly brave, Mister Emilio. Or incredibly stupid.”
“Not too stupid to figure out your game,” I said, tightening my hold on Splott. The kid’s wet eyes were bulging out of his head and face was going purple. “With your teeth gone, you can’t curse anybody. That’s why you let loose the kid here. He goes wolf in the middle of town, letting your band of thieves here loot the shops while everybody’s either panicking, running, or dead. Then you kidnap those bitten, luring them out with promises of a fake cure.
“You managed to catch a few new wolves this time, meaning you’ll have to use one of them to infect more people after I break your son’s neck.” I let the threat hang in the air for a moment before saying, “Unless you tell your thugs to back down. Now.”
Westina stared at me long and hard.
Her eye then flickered to Splott’s terrified, oxygen deprived face.
“Do as Mister Emilio wants, boys,” she called out. “Go. Ready the carriages and make sure our guests drink their potions. My son and I will join you shortly.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “In a fashion.”
Red Beard immediately lowered his weapon. The other men also lowered their weapons and backed off. A few of them were grinning as they hurried off towards the carriages. I kept my gun aimed at the back of Red Beard’s head, yet something didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel in control. Not one bit. I lessened my hold on Splott a tad, enough so as to keep him mildly alive for the moment. His head lolled sideways, eyes staring into the back of his head. Yet, even unconscious, the kid was still crying. “Mama…Mama…”
Westina ignored her son’s pleas. Didn’t move to help him. Instead she said, still wearing that almost-smile, “You’ve no idea who you have there, do you?” she chuckled. “Popovic would. Or at least, he’d have put two and two together. But if he’s really the one who sent you here to hunt me, so unprepared, then he’s one crappy advisor.”
Tell me about it, I agreed in my head.
Out loud I kept quiet, slowly dragging Splott back towards the forest. I doubted Westina or her thugs would let me get that far, but I at least wanted to get into a position where I could see them all, especially Red Beard. Some of the survivors were watching me and Westina from inside their cages, gripping the bars anxiously. I couldn’t tell who had and hadn’t already drunk their potion. If I was lucky they’d all be going unconscious in a few minutes. Otherwise…
“Let me tell you a little draconic history, Mister Emilio,” Westina began.
I shot her. Twice. In the chest.
And then dropped Splott and ran.
Hey, some people are willing to hold their ground and go down swinging, willing to die with honor rather than embrace their inner b#~$%. More than half of those guys end up in a grave. Me? I like living. Maybe I don’t like the particular life I was dealt, but I enjoy eating a good meal, taking a long nap, and pumping out a decent s!$$ as much as the next guy. So for the sake of that next awesome crap I booked it the hell out of there.
Red Beard moved immediately, just as I’d expected. I ducked and rolled onto my back. His bullet grazed the side of my head. Warmth spread down along my temple. He was a good shot.
But I sent my bullet through his right eye. I think that’s more than enough to prove me the better marksmen. Especially with all the blood and bits of brain that splattered across the carriage behind him. His lifeless body slumped forward onto the ground.
Westina’s body had done the same, her glasses having been knocked off by either the first or second bullet. And for all her talk of being a “family” her thugs barely paid her or Red Beard a second glance as they boarded the carriages and ushered the horses into motion. Only Ivan looked back, specifically at Splott, still unconscious and crying on the ground.
And then he smiled at me.
You asked for this, that smile said.
I watched them head out, keeping my gun at the ready until the sound of horses died out completely, and then scrambled back to my feet, started running in the opposite direction-
The clouds parted, releasing moonlight across the camp ground.
Westina’s body shuddered. Her eye rolled around in its socket before finally fixing on the full moon above. Blood seeped from the bullet wounds in her chest. Accompanied by two muffled pops, the bullets I’d put in her were pushed out. A wicked smile spread across her lips as she front flipped back onto her feet. For a moment her face was hidden behind the curtain of her hair. Everything except for a glowing yellow eye.
“Next time, aim for the head,” she cackled.
My hands were already in motion, dropping my pistol and drawing my rifle from inside my guitar case and then aiming it at her face. “I’ll keep that in mind this time,” I said darkly.
Her smile widened, revealing fanged teeth.
“Oooooooh this is going to be fuuuuuuun!”
Before meeting the monks I would have been caught off guard by what happened next, shocked that a person could move that fast. She was already behind me by the time I got the first shot off. I ducked. Her arms grazed the top of my head as she tried to wrap them around my neck. With no time to turn around, I elbowed her in the chest, right where I’d shot her. It was like elbowing a wall. The woman was pure muscle. Nearly sprained my arm but it did make her stumble back, giving me enough breathing room to whip around and slam the butt of my rifle across her face.
Red spittle burst from her mouth and across my face. I managed to blink most of it out of my eyes as I jumped away again but my vision now had a nasty red tinge to it. I repositioned my gun in my hands and prepared to unload the whole thing into Westina’s skull.
But she was gone.
A sound that was half cackling and half howling filled the night air.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!” Westina roared gaily. “God, you clever boy, it’s been soooooo long since I’ve felt that womanly urge. But you’re just bringing it out of me! Lay your gun down and I’ll let you lay me down. Fill me up with more than your bullets! Please say yes! Oh please!”
I whirled around, trying to gage out her location from her screaming.
“Considering all of those guys you’re travelling with, I seriously doubt you haven’t let them pass you around, Kestral!” I called out. “And I’m not interested in Ivan’s sloppy seconds, sorry.”
Westina’s laughter gradually died down. When she next called out to me her voice deeper, raspier but no less sensual. “Oh your sweetheart back home doesn’t have a prayer of matching me, Emilio. Or perhaps she’s just another lie you told my son alongside your promise of friendship. If that’s the case, then have you ever truly been in love? Have you known the softness of a woman’s skin or the heat of her sex?”
She sniffed the air extremely loudly for dramatic affect. “No…Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe we have a virgin! Ha-ha, oh, Emilio, that only makes me want to nibble on your bits even more!”
Despite the danger and insanity of the situation I felt myself start to blush.
“H-hey, well, you know what, lady…You can go f$!$ yourself!” I yelled back. My voice didn’t crack. I swear!
I took another step back and my left foot bumped against something.
It was Splott, still out cold. His face was drenched in moonlight, with his sword tattoo darkest black against his skin. I frowned. The kid hadn’t started to change yet. Was he not a werewolf after all? Was lycanthropy not inherited from mother to child after all? Was it actually Westina who had cursed the townsfolk? Maybe not with her teeth, but with claws or something? Damnit, the b*@~! was right!
Damn you, Pops! You’re a horrible werewolf-hunting teacher! Why don’t I know these things when they’re ACTUALLY RELEVANT!
Well maybe you should have done some independent studying, Terrance, a small, snide voice in my head said.
Shut up, I told the voice. Hate that guy.
“Who are you talking to, Mister Virgin?” Westina suddenly asked, bewildered.
Oops. Apparently I’d been saying everything I was thinking out loud.
Totally not embarrassed at all, I pressed the nose of my gun against Splott’s nose.
“Either you come out and take it to the head or your kid does!” I declared.
That same howling cackle of hers rang out. If I wasn’t drenched in cold sweat before I was now. How could she think herself in control of this situation with my gun literally pressed to her son’s head? Did she care for him that little? See him so expendable?
“…Mommy…”
The word was a haunted whisper escaping his lip.
I felt sorry for the kid. But hey, at least I’d been killing him in his sleep. Quick and painless.
“One!” I called out. “Two!”
Westina’s reply was to start whistling.
It started off low and disjointed. If I had been taking a simple stroll through the woods I might have mistaken it for a particularly noisy breeze. But the longer it lasted the more solemn the sound became. Solemn and beautiful and very much like a lullaby.
“…Mommy,” Splott moaned again. “…Don’t…want to…be scary…”
Westina continued her lullaby, whistling it louder. The tempo grew quicker, eager, seeming to fill the entire sky and the stars beyond. It was so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think, let alone scream out, “Three!”
My finger began pressing down on the trigger.
Westina Kestral’s lullaby abruptly became an animalistic howl of rage, sorrow and regret.
Splott’s eyes burst open. They were the same pulsing yellow as his mothers. But with one key difference: the pupils were slits like a snake’s.
The air around him spontaneously burst, sending me flying twenty feet through the air. I landed hard across the treasure chest Westina had been sitting on top of when I’d first arrived. It tipped over, spilling coins and precious jewels across the ground. All very pretty and probably worth a lot, but I barely noticed any of it or the pain spreading across my lower spine. My eyes were fixed on the nightmarish phenomenon coming to life in front of me and I just couldn’t look away.
Little Splott was getting bigger. He’d spasmed over onto his hands and knees. Primal noises burst from his mouth along with-I s+#% you not-small plumes of fire. The skin of his lips cracked while fangs forced their way out of his gums. A violent seizure shook his body, from the tip of his elongating nose to the tail tearing out of his back and through his trousers. His muscles broke down before then being shifted around and quadrupling in size. His shirt and the remains of his pants broke apart at the seams. That gave me a better look at the rest of his morphing body. It was covered in reddish-gold scales, with hot steam rising out of the breaks between them.
Little Splott was gone.
Eaten up by a giant wolf with the eyes, scales, and fire of a dragon. It pushed back onto its hind legs and let loose a draconic howl at the moon. A blast of fire exploded from its mouth, igniting the sky.
I looked from it, down to my gun, and gulped.
“I hate my life.”
And I only hated my life that much more when the wolf sniffed the air in my direction and then locked its eyes on me. Its lips pulled back into an animalistic grin. Hellish light seeped through its fangs.
Throughout all this I hadn’t noticed that Westina had stopped whistling. I caught sight of motion beyond the wolf. Kestral dropped down from a tree, caught hold of one of its branches, and swung herself over. She spun through the air like a dancer, weightless and free, before landing across her bestial son’s shoulders. If the steam coming off his scales hurt her she didn’t show it. No, Westina kept on smiling that wicked smile of hers, like she was the queen of the word.
She stretched out across the wolf’s shoulders lazily. She was almost tiny in comparison to the beast. It continued to glare and growl at me but made no move to attack. At least not yet. “As I was saying, Mister Emilio, you’re seriously behind on your draconic history,” Westina declared smugly, leaning over and kissing her son’s scaled brow. “Specifically what happens when a wolf and a dragon love each other very much and screw like bunnies on and off for years.”
I stared at her and the wolf, realization slowly dawning on me.
“…Splott’s Typhon Lee’s kid?”
I blinked repeatedly at the pair of them.
“How is that even fair?!” I screamed. “A-aren’t there, like, rules of nature against that kind of thing even existing?! I mean, f#$%, lady! I’m just a guy with a gun, guitar, and whole bunch of emotional b*~@#+~+!” I’d started laughing halfway through that last statement. Panicked, giddy laughter that usually only the most chaotic and stressful situations brought out of me. Just like this one. “Okay, seeing as I’m probably about to die no matter what I do, care to explain to a dead man how a dragon werewolf even works?”
Westina perked up. She swung her legs around so that they hung on either side of the dragon wolf’s head. She crossed her arms atop its head and rested her cheek against them. “My puppy’s a lot simpler than you’d think,” she said lovingly. “Since he was born a werewolf, it’s easier for him to transform whenever he wants, regardless if there’s a full moon or not. Or he could if he wasn’t such a timid babe. Yet he can only become a wolf. No more powerful than others of our kind.”
She raised a finger at me.
“EXCEPT on a night of a full moon. During a full moon his father’s side comes out to play.”
“So those people your guys took away,” I called back, slowly getting back to my feet. The wolf’s eyes followed my every movement. “They gonna turn into dragons too?”
“No. Unfortunately,” Westina huffed. “They’re just regular werewolves. Puppy’s dragon half isn’t infectious.”
“But it sure is hot,” I noted. “You and your thugs didn’t set half of Swindle on fire. That was just collateral damage from your bastard’s bad breath.”
Westina’s smile faltered.
“You really are a smart cookie, Mister Emilio,” she said, staring at me pensively. “I could use a man like you. But not as a man. As a true wolf.” She showed me her hands. “If you drop your gun, I will personally change you. But if you try to fight, I will sick Splott on you. And I assure you, his bite will go far deeper than mine.”
Her smile returned.
“So go ahead and choo-”
A bullet burst from between her eyes and whizzed over my head, the ghost of her last smile frozen on her face. Said face lost all traces of lycanthropy. Her lone eye lost its shine, her teeth shrank. And then Westina Kestral’s corpse fell sideways off the dragon wolf’s back like a ragdoll.
I didn’t get a chance to look at the body for long.
As if in reaction to its mother’s death, Splott the dragon wolf howled and rushed to kill the closest living thing in the area.
Lucky me.
No, but seriously, I was lucky that the beast was as big as it was. Its size kept it from moving as fast as its mother. It gave me time to swing my rifle up and shoot. My bullets shot straight towards its face, between its snake eyes-
Its mouth shot open and puked up a geyser of fire. The flames consumed my bullets whole. “S+~*!” I ducked and rolled to the side. The spot I’d just been standing in might as well have been struck by a bomb. A flaming crater and a few scraps of coin and jewels were all that remained.
Wait. Bomb.
I had one shot. This wasn’t a gun fight. I wasn’t going to win with bullets. And if the wolf managed to get its teeth in me I was a roast turkey at worst and looking forward to a lifetime of dog training at best. I reached into my coat, yanked out a grenade, and chucked it at the wolf. The sound from the explosion would distort its heightened sense of hearing and give me a chance to run.
That was the hope at least.
That hope imploded when I saw what I’d actually thrown.
It was the jar of performance enhancers.
“…No…”
The cry escaped my lips just as the jar smacked across the dragon wolf’s face. Its head lurched in my direction, mouth opening again to breathe fire at me-And then it rolled over, wagging its tail happily. It scratched at its own face and neck. A roaring purr filled its throat. It continued on for a few minutes longer before the fierce, indestructible, apex of apex predators, the dragon wolf rolled over and fell asleep.
I stared at the giant mass of fangs and scales, beyond confused.
“…The hell…?”
That’s when I noticed that the inside of my coat was wet. I reached in, past the two sound grenades, and came away with the remains of the vial Splott had given me. The stopper had come off. There were also bits of orange dirt in the same pocket. Apparently my fall had knocked the “performance enhancer” and the sleeping potion together, tainting the former with the latter. And I’d thrown this mixture at Splott by mistake…
“Maybe…” I licked my lips. “Maybe-”
“Maybe the gods don’t hate you after all, Terry!” a male voice laughed across from me, from inside the forest. After a moment a dwarf caked head to toe in mud walked out, a giant rifle slung across his thick shoulders.
“Pops?” I said, blinking repeatedly at him.
He beamed at me. Or at least I think he did. It was hard to tell through all the mud. “Good show, kid!” he said, making his way over. Even with the rifle, and the beast currently unconscious, he walked the long way around the dragon wolf. “Ridiculously dumb luck saved your ass at the end there, but you were doing swell before then. For the most part.”
My eyes became slits as I watched him approach.
“You were tailing me,” I hissed.
“Naturally,” Pops said. He gestured to himself with his prosthetic hand. “Next time, when dealing with werewolves, swim in mud first. It hides your scent. Makes it easier to get the drop on ‘em-”
“Thanks for telling me that NOW!” I roared. Rage and leftover adrenaline was making my hands shake. I wanted to hit him. No, I wanted to shoot him! But I didn’t trust myself to make the shot that I’d been dreaming of since I was five. “So what’s all this really about?”
“Westina,” Pops answered. He walked past me and ventured into the crater the dragon wolf’s fire had made. He shifted through the treasure that was left. He eyed a few diamonds and such before finally pocketing a small metal object, seemingly for the hell of it. “Mostly. Mostly for her. And partly to take the long lost prince home.”
“Splott,’ I said, looking towards the wolf. “…Is he really…? Is that really Typhon Lee’s son?”
“Y’know, until tonight that was in doubt,” Pops said, climbing out of the crater. “But thanks to you, kid, that’s no longer the case.”
“I see,” I said. “So I was bait.”
Pops didn’t answer. Didn’t deny it either.
He leaned in and smelled me. “Whatever you threw at Kestral’s bastard sure does smell delicious. After we chain him up, you’ll have to introduce me to that vendor lady-”
“No time,” I growled, looking around anxiously. “Kestral may be dead and the monster down, but her thugs are still out there. They might be back any second now-”
“No they won’t,” Pops said.
The finality in his voice left no question as to what he meant.
“You killed them,” I said quietly.
He nodded, beaming with pride. “And all the pups too.”
I stared at him. And as I did I recalled the sadness and desperation worn by those Splott had cursed. I recalled their hope that Westina had actually had a cure. And then the resigned despair when she had revealed it all to be a sham. I didn’t know them. Didn’t remember the finer details of their faces. But even though a large chunk of me knew that Pops had made the right choice to kill them, keep them from hurting anyone else, the rage in my heart doubled.
“…What about the others,” I asked slowly. “The ones who stayed back in town.”
Pops shrugged. “Figured we’d chain the kid up and finish them off on our way through town. Start with that little girl-”
I shot him.
Or at least I tried to.
He was faster.
He moved forward just as I raised my gun. And even though I saw it coming, the five-year old in me panicked, allowing his fist to connect with the side of my face. Now I’ve been hit plenty of times since our spat over Zigzag. Especially by Pops. But this time he didn’t hold back. The blow knocked me off my feet and my gun out of my hands. I landed across the scorched grass with a heavy thump. And then a second thump followed as Pops jumped on top of me, having dropped his own rifle. His eyes were hollow as he brought his fist back.
“No mercy,” was the last thing he said before beating me to the brink of death.
#
I woke up some time later in a bundle of blankets. A boy with a shaggy brown mop of hair was running a hot wash cloth across my face. I stared at him dumbly with my right eye seeing as my left one was completely swollen shut. Everything hurt, especially my head. I was in near agony as it took everything in me to move my lips and say, “…Hey…”
The kid stared at me while rinsing the wash cloth behind him on the stone floor. The cloth was stained a light pink. He opened his mouth to speak but a steady voice suddenly said, “Good. You’re finally awake. You may leave us, Gregor.”
The kid hurried back to his feet, bowed to whoever had entered the room, and left. I wasn’t too surprised when Sergei walked over to my side and sat cross-legged next to me.
“Hello, Terry,” he said gently.
There were so many questions I wanted to throw at him. How did I get back to the monastery? Where was Pops? Or Splott, Typhon’s dragon-werewolf son? Were you playing me this whole time, Sergei? Along with Pops? And what are you going to do with me now that I’ve caught on to your little game?
But I was in too much pain and too tired to try. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling.
“I’m sure you have questions,” Sergei said. When I didn’t make any gesture that I’d heard him he went on, “As do I. Two days past Popovic returned, with you bloody and beaten to near death. He told me that you’d killed Westina but that her band of bandits had cornered you. That they would have killed you if he hadn’t arrived in time. Does any of this ring true?”
Again I gave him nothing.
“Popovic left yesterday, to inform Lee of Kestral’s death,” Sergei said. “He asked me to look after you. And I gladly will. Beyond it being part of our deal, you did this monastery a great service, Terry. More than you know. Not to mention all the souls you both avenged and saved from that woman’s wickedness.”
Westina Kestral’s face flashed across my eyes. But not the bestial, cackling woman bathed in moonlight. Instead I saw the mother holding her crybaby son to her chest with love in her eyes. That mother was dead now. But what of her son? Had Pops killed Splott or taken him to dad…?
More questions that I just didn’t have the energy to ask and I was pretty sure Sergei didn’t have the answers to.
“All of your equipment is here, along with a hefty sum of gold Popovic took from the bandits. You can stay here for as long as you wish, until you see fit to return to your master-”
“…He’s not…my f+&#ing…master.”
It took everything in my being to pack in as much rage and hate into those words as I did. And even then it wasn’t enough. And it never would be. I’d been played like a sucker. And as I lay there, battered and beaten, I made a vow never to trust anyone again.
Not Sergei. Definitely not Pops. No one.
Ever.
Finally finished writing a new chapter for this. Should hopefully have it up next week once the others have reviewed it. Will post...Carrion Crown, I think is the one I have something done for... in a few mins.
Pant Pant Pant Pant
<Thump><Thump><Thump><Thump>
Droool . . . .
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“That’s okay, I’ll walk the path,” Terry said, trying to talk his way out of it. “The cliff seems unnecessarily dangerous.”
“I can fly up after you and catch you if you fall,” Burin said, unfurling his dragon wings as he spoke.
“That settles it,” Gregor said, grabbing the back of Terry’s coat. “Come. We climb.” He the leapt halfway up the cliff and pressed the now terrified assassin against the rock face. Even from where I was, I could hear Gregor’s command. “Up or down is up to you, but either way… you climb.”
I glanced over and saw Persephone doing her best to hide her laughter from Emily, but the best she could do was keep it to an evil grin. I’m not sure I understand their relationship, to be honest.
Speaking of Emily, she made a disappointed noise. “Aww, I thought Dad was about to tell us a story,” she whined.
“This is where you were born, baby girl,” her mother answered. “Sergei took us in. Oh, it looks like your father is having trouble. Hop on, baby.” She then transformed into her manticore form and flew up, catching Terry just as he fell and carrying him up to the top, holding the back of his jacket in her mouth like a mother cat carrying a kitten by the scruff.
“We should follow them,” I said, casting a quick spell and turning Nebula into a vortex dragon – the fastest type of dragon Daddy’s research mentions, capable of flying through the depths of space at incredible speeds. She let Greta and Anastasia climb on her back, and together we flew up to the top of the cliff.
The monastery looked like it had taken some mild damage from a fire, but it was constructed mostly of stone and was none the worse for wear. So we made our way inside once Gregor was done giving Terry disappointed looks.
Once inside, we began working on the puzzle box. Only…it was impossible. Maybe Daddy or Juiz could have figured it out. But I even had Cortana run multiple simulations, and she had nothing. So, yeah, we were stuck, even after an hour of work.
Something had to break. I was about to suggest that we figure it out later and investigate first, but before I could, Terry pulled out his gun and tried to shoot the box. But Persephone realized what he was doing and struck him, pushing the gun away. His bullet struck the floor and ricocheted, grazing Anastasia’s forearm, causing her to drop the box, as she was the one holding it. Only Burin’s quick reaction prevented it from crashing to the floor.
You ever watch those forensics shows? Mama loves them. So I’ve managed to pick up a thing here and there about how blood spatters depending on the wound. And there was little statistical chance of it hitting the box. Trust me, I had Cortana run the numbers. The odds were something like one in four hundred thousand based on the location of the wound, the angle of her body and the placement of the box. It shouldn’t have happened.
Which makes me think that the box pulled in her blood. Well, that and the fact that not a single drop of blood seemed to hit the ground. Runes appeared on the box and it began to move on its own, turned and gyrating – jumping out of Burin’s hands as it did so – until finally it was open.
Terry couldn’t have looked more smug than he did at that moment. “See? Violence.”
“Hush,” Persephone chided as she and Emily finished tending to the princess’ wound and Emily had finished apologized for the actions of ‘the Doofopath’.
The open puzzle box levitated out of Burin’s hand, and the spirit of a man – he looked older, and based on what I’d heard of him, I was sure this had to be Sergei. Or maybe, it wasn’t a spirit, but a magical projection. A message, of sorts, as it didn’t really address us. It simply turned to Burin – the last person to touch the box – and began to speak. “Hello. If you are seeing this, then I am dead and you have been sent by Baba Yaga. How else would you have a drop of her blood? Please tell her that I have kept her artifacts safe, at the cost of my life. You are here to retrieve them. You will require one of my disciples. I have left instructions in the pages of my journal to open the key, and only they can decipher them.”
I looked at Gregor, but the fighter’s face betrayed no emotion at the sight of his old mentor.
The image continued. “If Gregor is alive, please give him the journal when you are done. He deserves to know of my failure.”
Then the image disappeared and tendrils of purple flame shot out of the box, and into the deeper monastery. They were gone in a flash, then the box clattered to the floor.
I turned to talk to Gregor, but he was halfway across the room, inspecting some damage to one of the walls. I walked over to him. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“I will need to repair monastery,” was his only answer.
Persephone was right behind me. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Your teacher was a good man,” she said. “He gave us a home when no one else could, least of all my own father.”
He didn’t respond, and luckily for him, he didn’t have to, as Emily came over as well. “Mister Gregor?” she asked, obviously embarrassed. “Um, is there a place that I can…um, you know?”
“Ah, you are looking for the latrine. Yes, you must run three miles down path outside. Take a left at the tree.”
Her eyes bulged in obvious terror that she’d never make it that far. Persephone shook her head. “That’s just for the older disciples,” she said. “There’s a place for the new kids that you can use. Come on, I know where it is.”
They were gone for a long time. Eventually, Burin walked over to the door to the room where the younger kids would bunk and called through the door. “You okay?” he asked.
“It’s magical!” Emily called back excitedly. Greta gave me a confused look, to which I retuned a shrug.
Thankfully, they returned a few moments later and explained. It seemed that Emily had spotted a hidden cache where someone had stashed some gear. One of the items they’d found was a pair of magical bracers. Gregor explained that they were used to help the new kids be a little better at fighting.
“I guess you’ll want them then,” Emily said, handing them to the fighter.
He handed them to Terry. “Your form is sloppy. These will help.”
Terry looked at them. “That’s okay,” Terry said, handing them to Emily again. “If I’m punching things, we’re dead anyway.”
Emily looked at them. “I don’t really hit things. Would they help you, Momma?” she asked, handing them to Persephone.
The woman looked at Gregor questioningly. “I believe they would help you fight,” he said after a moment.
“Then I’ll use them,” she agreed, putting on her new bracers. I used my magic to study them as she did so, and apparently they did nothing to help the kids fight. Instead, they protected the kids from injury a bit, like wearing armor might. I guess the rest was just told as a placebo, maybe? Either way, those really would help Persephone since she couldn’t wear armor as a manticore.
Back together, we headed in the direction the purple flames had traveled, and entered Sergei’s quarters. It was a mess, with papers and other objects strewn everywhere. But the most noticeable thing was a section of wall limned in purple fire, about the size of the door.
“Do you see a mechanism?” Gregor asked Terry.
The assassin pulled out his tools. “I’ll try to find one.” But no sooner had he inserted his picks between two stone bricks than purple flames shot out at him. He narrowly dodged, but his tools weren’t quite so lucky. They were completely melted. “That’s it, I’m shooting a rocket at it!” he said, but Persephone restrained him.
“Maybe I should try punching it?” Gregor then asked, not entirely sure.
“And let your hands melt like Terry’s tools?” Burin asked. “Shouldn’t we find the journal instead, like Sergei told us?”
“Yeah, Terry!” Persephone said. “Use your head for once!”
“I think what Momma’s trying to say is that this is your master’s sacred place,” Emily said. “And I think the box wants this to be a test of smarts, not muscle.” She handed him all the papers she’d been gathering up from the floor. “Maybe these will help?”
“Let’s split them up,” I suggested. “It’ll go faster if we’re all looking at them.”
We split up the pages and began reading. In a few moments, Terry whistled in triumph. “Found something,” he said. “This is definitely from a journal.” He then began to read aloud. “‘This thing is infuriating. Curse Katinka for leaving it with me. I told her she was sick, but she does not listen. She never listened.’ I guess he got a pet?”
“Terry,” Persephone chided.
“Fine,” he said, grabbing the next page. “‘It will not stop crying. I have tried everything. It is fed. It is clean. It is warm. Even when a disciple holds it, it still continues its wailing. It will only cease when I hold it, and that makes it impossible to train. I will grow fat from lack of exercise at this rate.’ I can attest to babies being like that. Emily would cry if anyone other than her mother held her,” he commented.
“That was just you she would cry for. She had no problems with Sergei or the disciples holding her,” Persephone. “Now stop being an ass and read the rest.”
“‘At last, peace. The thing has begun to sleep through the night. I have resumed my normal training. I can barely climb the wall, it has been so long.’” He held out the pages to Gregor. “That’s all the words, but there were doodles. Do you know what they mean?”
Gregor looked at them. “Those are forms. I do not recognize them. Perhaps he was working on a new fighting style. Still…” He approached the “door” and began going through the motions of the forms. As he did so, blue runes began appearing on the wall and moving as he performed each motion. It kinda reminded me of a combination lock, the way it was moving.
He finished the three forms and then tried repeating them, but the runes fizzled out. “It is as I thought. It appears we need the full set. Maybe fifteen or sixteen in all, I am thinking.”
“That’s probably why he said we’d need a disciple,” Burin said. “I looked at the papers and had no idea what those drawings meant.” He then turned to me. “Do you know of any magic that would help us find the pages?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Sorry. I could find pages of paper, but with so many around, I’m not sure that would help us.”
“Then we will search everywhere,” Gregor said, now fired up.
We next made our way to what had been the adult barracks. Within, we found a few more pieces of equipment. Most interesting was a shield that Emily picked up. “What’s it do?” she asked Gregor.
“It’s for practice catching arrows and bullets. The shield magically pulls them to it, so you know where the arrow will be.”
“Ooh!” Emily said. “Now Dad can shoot at us all day.”
Persephone looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I was teaching her to dodge,” Terry said defensively.
Gregor ignored it and had the girl hold up her new shield. He then threw a shuriken at her, purposely throwing it off to the side. It veered through the air as though it was pulled by a magnet and bounced off the metal shield.
Terry then began speaking, using that tone of voice you use when reading. “‘I have begun teaching it as the other disciples. It is infuriatingly stubborn, refusing such simple tasks demanded of all children who train with me. Typhon Lee has suggested that he could take it into his care, but Katinka wanted it to stay with me, so I politely declined. I am not so sure I trust that man, anyway. I suspect him to be a wolf masquerading as a sheepdog.’” Terry laughed bitterly. “Yeah, you can say that again.”
“What else does it say?” Burin asked.
“‘It skinned its knees while fighting with one of the new disciples. There was hair pulling, so I shaved both of their heads and made them stand in the hallway holding water buckets. I returned an hour later to find that they had thrown the water at each other. The look on their faces was infuriating, but for some reason, I could not help but laugh as soon as they were out of sight.’ Is holding buckets of water that much of a punishment?”
“For a few minutes?” Gregor asked. “No. But if you do it for three hours, at the end of an extended arm? That is good training. I will have you do it later.”
“I think I’ll pass. Oh, look, there’s another page here. ‘The child has taken to drawing. Constantly, all day it doodles. I even caught it painting on the walls of the meditation room. I had to punish it severely for that, with a run around the monastery. It caught a cold. I did not tell it not to wear a coat, the fool.’”
“My little brother started doing that,” I said.
“Oh? What did your parents do to stop that?”
I laughed. “Mom thought he needed to be taught not to because it was bad for discipline, but Daddy pointed out that he’d painted the entire house in an advanced paint that would come clean of everything with a light spray of water and a quick wipe of a paper towel.”
“Anyway,” Terry said, holding out the pages to Gregor. “There are more of your dance moves. One looks a little smudged by a shoeprint, though.”
I looked at the print as the pages were handed over. “Those look like kid’s shoes. And the style isn’t consistent with the shoes made in this region. Whoever wore that came from pretty far away. You can get those in Absalom, but they can be found within five hundred miles of the city.” Everyone was staring at me like I’d grown a second head. “What? I like shoes.”
“The print is less than two days old,” Gregor pointed out.
“People passing through?” Burin asked.
“It’s possible,” Persephone agreed. “Maybe they got caught in a storm and stayed here for shelter?”
“Maybe,” Gregor admitted. “It does look like it rained or snowed in the last few days.”
We continued searching, making our way next to the adult baths. There were lots of those small footprints, all the same style of shoe. “I don’t think those were worn by a child,” Burin said. “Halflings, or gnomes maybe?”
Greta shook her head. “I smell a musk here. Like rodents.”
“Beavers,” Gregor said. “Were-beavers.”
He seemed really sure of that. “Were those a problem around here?” Emily asked, looking nervous.
“One of the older disciples warned me of them. And these things spent a lot of time around the baths. Just like beavers would have.” I had never heard of were-beavers and was starting to wonder if the older disciple had been messing with him, but didn’t say anything as Terry chuckled in triumph.
“You thought you could hide it from me?” he asked, opening a hidden cache and pulling out some valuables. “Ooh, that’s a pretty necklace.” He immediately handed it to Persephone.
“I’m not putting that on before someone tells me what it does,” she said sensibly.
“I’ll take a look,” Burin said. “Oh, it’s a powerful, but nasty little charm. While wearing it, your claws and other attacks will be considerably more powerful, but the magic will hurt you as well when you use it. Not as much as it’ll improve what you do, but you need to be careful.”
“Okay, I can do that,” she said, putting it on.
“There are more pages,” Anastasia said. “Though I can’t read them.” She offered them to me, as the nearest person.
I looked at them. Sergei had beautiful handwriting, by the way. “‘The child has once more been a burden on discipline. Today, it convinced Maksim to skip training and go exploring the woods outside of the monastery. When I found them, Maksim was half dead, mauled by wolves, and the child was crying. It was mere luck that I got there in time to rescue them. Maksim has sworn to redouble his efforts in training, so that it would never happen again, so that he could protect his friend. The child wept, and kept apologizing to me and him, burying its head in my chest as it did so. I could not even bring myself to punish them, only holding the child as it wept.’”
Gregor nodded. “Sergei warned us about exploring. The wolves have a taste for children.”
I kept reading. “‘This summer, the child shot up nearly a foot. I do not know what I fed it that caused such a growth, but I will determine what it was, that I might make sure my youngest disciples can benefit as well. It appears less like a child now. I can see Katinka in its features.’” That last line was written a bit shakily, as if Sergei was overcome by emotions or something. I kept reading the next entry. “‘She and Maksim had an argument today that threatened to shatter the very windows of the monastery, it was so loud. I do not know why they fight, as they have always been such good friends, but it seems like it was a trivial matter that did not deserve such hysterics from either of them.’”
There was a girl here? This didn’t seem like a place where there would be a lot of girls. Terry seemed to agree with my question. “Who is Katinka? And what about Maksim and this girl? I don’t remember any girls here when I was here.”
“I do not know,” Gregor said. “Sergei never mentioned any of them.”
“It does show Sergei gave some of the disciple special treatment, not just you.”
“What?”
“You got special training, and you seem to be his successor.”
“You’re mistaken. I had to train extra hard just to keep up. Why do you think I would be his successor?”
Terry gave him a look that said he thought Gregor was being stupid. “The ghost mentioned your name specifically. Oh my god! It makes sense! This is a setup! Why am I the only one who can see the dots?”
Burin tilted his head. “Sometimes when I push on my eyes, I see dots.”
Emily immediately began pushing on her eyes with her fingers. “I see dots too!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Persephone gave her a look and walked over to Terry, who was still ranting some strange conspiracy theory I couldn’t follow. “I’m doing this because I love you. I need five or ten minutes.” She pulled out a roll of duct tape and put it over his mouth.
From there, we went to the dining hall. The place was a mess. Something had gotten into the preserved food stores and there was stuff all over the place. Gregor began recreating the steps of what he was sure was a food fight, trying to figure out what had happened. “Three, no four, individuals. It started over there and escalated.” Eventually, he managed to produce a large pickle with a bite in it. “Beaver teeth,” he said, showing some satisfaction as he showed us the mark.
The whole time he had been doing it, Terry had been silently mocking him, culminating in Terry rolling his eyes when Gregor showed us the pickle, then doing his own investigation.
“It’s awfully quiet in here,” Gregor said with a bit of a smirk. Terry gave him some annoyed side-eye at that.
“Does Dad know he can just take the tape off?” Emily asked her mother.
“He loves me too much to do that,” Persephone answered. Terry responded by making a very rude gesture towards her back.
We then went into the kitchen, where we found that something large had torn open a barrel with its teeth. “See? It eats wood. Definitely were-beavers,” Gregor said.
Terry produced a tuft of hair he found and handed it to Greta. She sniffed it. “Is it from a beaver?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “I’ve never seen a beaver. But the smell is familiar…not quite the same, but it reminds me of scents I’ve smelled while visiting the homes of human slaves.”
Oh, right. Her country was pretty screwed up and she had probably not been kind to those slaves.
I didn’t want to think about it, and was relieved when Terry handed the closest person his next find – a few pickle-juice stained pages. Burin took the pages and began reading. “‘Young Vasily came to me today and told me that he had seen Sasha and Maksim sneaking into the tool shed out in the garden. I went to investigate, and I found them in such a state that I nearly beat Maksim until he could no longer stand. Only Sasha’s intervention cooled my rage, but even now I seethe thinking about what I saw.’ Oh my. That seems private. I’m not sure we should be reading this.”
Burin is far too ridiculously pure sometimes.
“Please keep reading,” I said, wanting to avoid having to touch those gross papers.
“Okay. ‘Maksim informed me that he was leaving. He said that he was going to move to the village near to the monastery, to aid his family at their farm after his father was killed in an accident. He is dutiful, I will give him that. Sasha tells me that she wants to go with him, but I forbade it.’ I wonder who Maksim is,” Burin thought aloud.
“Mister Burin, please keep reading?” Emily begged. “I wanna know what happened next.”
“‘Once more, Typhon Lee asks me to join him, to turn my back on Baba Yaga. And once more, I told him that I would never betray Baba Yaga. She was the one who gave me the monastery, and my sacred charge. I will never turn my back on her.’” He turned to Emily. “Sorry, that’s all that’s there. I’ll use my magic to dry these out, then we can put them with the others safely. Want me to show you how?”
“Yes, please!” the girl said enthusiastically.
While Burin had been reading, Terry and Greta left the room, returning after a few minutes to questioning looks from me and Persephone. “We were following the scent,” Greta explained.
“Find anything?”
“They spent a lot of time in another set of baths. We found these,” she said, holding up a bullet casing. At first I thought they were the ones Rasputin had left when he had come here, but Cortana’s analysis suggested otherwise. They were too primitive to be from early twentieth century Earth.
We looked at Terry, waiting for his analysis of what he saw, but he just pointed at the tape on his lips. Persephone rolled her eyes and reached up to remove the tape, but he dodged around her and slapped her ass. It jiggled rather nicely, I must say.
“Good!” Gregor said. “You’re using the training! Now for something more difficult to dodge!” He dashed forward and punched out faster than I could see. His hand went just close enough to Terry’s face to literally punch it off of his lips.
You ever pull off a bandage too quickly? It rips off hair. Well, that’s what people tell me. I’m basically hairless aside from my head and eyebrows. It’s another one of those mutations I inherited from Mama. Anyway, even then, if the adhesive is too strong and it’s pulled off too hard, it does pull off a thin layer of skin even without hair. Well, imagine that with high grade duct tape being ripped off your lips with a force capable of punching a dragon into submission.
Terry’s lips mostly came off.
He dropped to his knees in a mixture of pain and panic, too freaked out to even scream audibly. Emily left Burin’s lesson and went over to apply another nanite injection, instantly regenerating his damaged lips. Even Persephone comforted him. “I found more pages,” he said.
Persephone took them from him and began reading. “‘Late last night, Sasha ran away from the monastery. She has gone to live with Maksim. They are to be married, if what I have heard is to be believed. Perhaps it is for the best. This place is not a place for a girl, especially one who never wished to train, only to play and to draw and to fill the halls with the warmth of her laughter. She is so very much like her mother that it hurts to know that she is gone, but I think my dear sister Katinka would approve of Sasha finding happiness. I will not get in her way.’ Good for her. A girl should be allowed to go out in search of what she wants in life.”
“Yes, dear,” Terry said. “Freedom and all that.”
She shot him a look. Her face went pale as she looked over the entry. “Oh no. ‘I received word last night that bandits attacked Swindle. I sent my oldest disciples to the farm immediately. Maksim was dead. He died fighting to protect Sasha and his elderly uncle. The uncle was alive, or at least, had clung on to life desperately hiding the only one untouched by the ravages of the bandits. What he described as happening to Sasha…I cannot write it. I cannot even think it, for it causes my blood to boil so. I contacted Typhon Lee, asked him to send one of his killers. The bandits will pay for what they did to Sasha.’” Her voice broke as she read it.
“I can read the rest if you’re having trouble,” I said.
“It’s okay,” Persephone answered, taking a breath to steady herself. “‘Typhon Lee’s dwarf, Popovic, arrived today, his new apprentice in tow. I explained to him what I wanted, how all of the bandits must pay for what they did to my beautiful Sasha. He assured me that his apprentice would make sure they did, and that he would personally confirm it. While the young man talked with my disciples, I explained to Popovic that there was something else I needed. Sasha had worn a silver locket. It contains two portraits, one of Katinka, and one of her and Maksim. I told him there would be a bonus for its retrieval.’”
Terry raised an eyebrow at that. “Pops never mentioned anything about a girl or a locket. He just said bandits hit a town and we were supposed to kill them back. That was my first solo job, a bit before I met you. Remember, the vampires kept talking about it? It was pretty f@~+ed up. And it’s why I stopped working with Pops. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t tell me anything else. A&@$%!+.”
Gregor looked over the forms. “We’re missing a page. But we have searched everywhere. I do not think I will be able to open it with just this much, but I will try. Let us return to the door.”
As he tried several random final moves, we pored through the pages again. There had to be something we’d missed. And there was. Anastasia found it. The pickle juice pages had stuck together a bit, and sandwiched between them was one final page. She held her prize in her hand and tried to read it…only to realize that she didn’t know that language. Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix. So I waved my hand and spoke a word, giving her the ability to understand.
She began reading it aloud immediately. “‘It is done. The bandits are dead and I have the locket. Perhaps, one day, when he is older, I will give it to Gregor, tell him about his mother. But for now, I will instead train him. She was not strong enough to defend herself. That was my fault. My mistake. I loved her too much and so I could not be as hard on her as I should have. I did not make her strong. I will not make the same mistake with Gregor. No matter how he suffers, I will not give him a single inch. He may think I hate him. If that is so, then it is a price I will pay. He will be strong, the strongest disciple I have ever trained, even if it kills him. I owe Sasha that much.
“‘And one day, when I am too old to continue my duty, he will take my place and train new disciples, as should have been Sasha’s role, had I not been so weak. He will understand then, perhaps, why I had to be as hard on him as I was. Why I could not tell him how proud of him I am. And perhaps one day he will tell his own children or disciples about me, and I hope he will do so fondly, knowing how much it hurt me to do what had to be done to make him strong.’”
Gregor took the page from her and we watched him as he read it silently for several moments, staring at it, seeming lost in the words. Then, just as silently, he handed her the page back and went to the door. He completed the full sequence, and the door opened. He charged through without even waiting for it to open all the way, and we ran after him.
He was so much faster than us. But we could hear a voice ahead. “Come. Prove you are worthy!”
We could hear sharp cracks – sonic booms? – as fighting commenced. As we finally reached the end of the winding stairway, we saw Gregor locked in combat with the ghostly form of Sergei, who was engulfed in that same purple flame. Each of their strikes was too fast to keep up with. I only know how many blows were struck by the sound of the air cracking at the sheer speed.
Gregor had the obvious upper hand, and even Sergei acknowledged it. “Your fists are strong! But now we must test your resolve!” He disappeared into a shadow, reappearing from the shadows behind Gregor and striking him with a deadly attack to the chest as Gregor spun around.
If it had been a kung-fu movie, Gregor’s heart probably should have exploded in his chest. As it was, the shockwave from the blow nearly knocked me from my feet. And I wasn’t the only one. Greta had to catch Anastasia.
But Gregor remained standing, his stance defiant as his master’s spirit drew up into formal stance before bowing. “You are worthy,” Sergei said. I could see Gregor’s eyes beaming with pride as he returned the bow.
The two raised their heads and shared one final look before Sergei’s ghost disappeared. In its place, a silver locket clattered to the floor. He picked it up and then walked to the far end of the room, where a chest stood. Inside, he found two objects. I got a look at them as he handed them to Burin. One was a miniature carving of the Dancing Hut. The other was an ancient portrait – around the size of a picture frame you’d put on a table, though it had to be hundreds, if not thousands of years old – that depicted a man, a woman and a child. The woman looked a lot like Anastasia, though their hair was different.
There were two of them. They had to be keys. And if the picture was of who I thought it was, then I was really curious as to where they would take us.
Terry walked up to Gregor and held out his fist, which Gregor bumped in triumph. “Machine of Death,” the assassin said approvingly. Gregor didn’t even notice that Terry had taken the locket from him during the motion. He probably wouldn’t have noticed for a while, but Terry immediately opened it. “Your mom’s kinda hot.”
“Terry,” Persephone said disapprovingly, taking the locket from him and looking at it. “You look just like your dad,” she said to Gregor as we all crowded around to get a look.
“Except the eyes,” Anastasia said. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
Damn. That girl had it worse than I thought.
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“Thank you,” Gregor said after Emily injected him. “I am thinking that my spleen may now be on the wrong side of my body. But I believe I will be fine now.”
“What’s a spleen?” Emily asked.
“It converts excess red humour into yellow humour and allows your body to get rid of it,” Burin said. He was simultaneously wrong, but also right in ways he shouldn’t have been.
Terry shook his head, possibly catching the same issues I had. “I’ll explain it later,” he said. “I read a lot about it in the magic mirror.”
“We have what we came for,” Greta said. “Let us make our way back to the hut and free Baba Yaga so that the usurpers can pay like they should.” Her mechanical arm flexed in anger as she said it, possibly remembering the torture she had endured at their hands.
I put my hand on the small of her back and she relaxed. “She’s right,” I said. “This is almost over. Let’s get back upstairs.”
We headed up and suddenly Terry froze. “What is it?” Burin asked, drawing his axe.
“Someone’s in the kitchen,” the assassin said.
Gregor nodded. “Let’s go.”
We made our way quietly into the dining hall, then into the kitchen. On the wall were the words, “Got you.” Written in Taldan.
Those definitely weren’t there before. But nothing else was amiss. Whoever had come in here to write that hadn’t even left tracks. It was like they’d flown through the room or maybe levitated or something. Perplexed, we began making our way back outside. But as we opened the door to the central corridor, Burin and Gregor stopped moving.
“What is it?” Anastasia asked.
“There’s something there,” Burin said.
“Let me see…” Terry said, walking through the door, then freezing. “Oh, s+*#. It wasn’t beavers,” he said. “It’s rats!”
I looked out into the hall and spotted what appeared to be a massive cube of tower shields. “Recon didn’t tell us there were this many!” a voice shouted from within the shield wall. “This is going to be fun, boys!” The shields shifted slightly and ratfolk hands slid out, pointing multiple tiny pistols. “SPRATAN-D, prepare for glory!”
“What is SPRATAN-D?” I asked as bullets began pouring down the hallway. Several of us took glancing hits, but the blasts engulfed us in fairy fire, which didn’t harm us, only marking each of us in different colors. I was marked in blue, Terry was in green, Gregor was red and Burin was yellow.
“SPecialized Rodent Artillery Troop, Armored Nemesis Division,” Cortana answered helpfully. I later learned that they were special soldiers commissioned by Typhon Lee, and this particular company was tasked with bringing in high value targets. Alive. Not a good thing, considering what had happened to Greta. Though I guess it explains with the bullets didn’t seem to draw blood, only striking with a lot of force.
Terry dropped prone and returned fire immediately, though those shields proved dangerously effective, especially as they shifted them closed again. Burin also reacted. “If you think you’re trapping us,” he said, “then you’re wrong. We’re trapping you!” He cast a spell and a massive wall of ice blocked off the exit behind the rats.
“Looks like they’re fodder for the slaughter!” the ratfolk leader shouted. “All fire on green!”
Terry was out like a light pretty much instantly as he took multiple shots all over his body. We had to do something quick, and Burin had given me an idea. “Can you cast another wall?” I asked.
“Yes,’ the dwarf answered as Gregor dragged the unconscious Terry back into the dining hall.
“Not beavers!” I heard the fighter tell the girls back in the room.
“Good,” I answered the dwarf. “Get ready.” I then unleashed the power of the storm within my blood, filling the hall around the rats with deadly poison – like mustard gas on steroids. Then I dove back through the open door.
I heard Burin cast his spell as Emily injected me with more nanites, healing my battered ribcage as Terry stirred. She’d probably healed him first, thinking about it.
“They’re trying to break through the wall and retreat!” Burin shouted.
“I can get us to the other side of them,” Emily said to me.
“Go!” Persephone told us. “I’ll give them something to occupy them on this side!” She roared as she transformed back into her “Normal” form after dashing through the door.
Emily teleported us to the main entry hall and I tapped into my power once more, creating a wall of force against our side of the door. There was no way they were breaking through that. Satisfied, we teleported back to our allies – there was the possibility they had backup outside, after all – just in time to hear Persephone be gunned down by the terrified rats.
“Mama!” Emily shouted, but was drowned out by the sound of an exploding rocket.
“They hid in a side room!” Terry shouted.
Gregor ran out into the hall and grew into a frost giant. “We’ll see about that!” he said. I was worried about the gas, but it had mostly dispersed into another door, which had been blown open by the rocket. Gregor dashed over and began pushing on the wall.
The wall began to groan as Gregor pushed it. I could hear the voice of the ratfolk leader from the other side. “Guiser!” he shouted. “You got us! But Typhon Lee sends his regards. We’ll be seeing you real soon, and Hell will be a much brighter place with you there beside us!”
The wall gave way and the rats died laughing as they were crushed under falling debris.
Emily immediately began crying as she rushed to Terry. “I’m sorry!” she said. “I used magic to try to protect you, but the spell didn’t do anything!”
Terry awkwardly tried to comfort her and I went to the girls in the back. “You alright?” I asked.
“We’re fine,” Anastasia assured me. “I think they killed Persephone.” She looked worried.
“Emily can resummon her. She’s not actually here. She died years ago.”
“That is a powerful girl,” the princess said. “What were you fighting?”
“Good question. Cortana, does Daddy have any files on SPRATAN-D?” I asked.
I heard Daddy’s voice respond. It was obvious he’d recorded a log. “Where to start with SPRATAN-D? Just one more example of Typhon Lee’s insanity. They’re experts on renditions, and their leader is an absolute madman. They call him ‘The Silver Platter’, after his shield. And they’re all alchemically altered. If you ever have the misfortune of seeing one, you’ll know it because they all have a third, mutant arm. They use it to reload their guns while still holding their shields.
‘They field twelve companies in all, but the most dangerous is Alpha Company, which uses weapons to mark their targets and prevent them from hiding using magic. Aside from that, their tactics seem to all be the same. Find a chokepoint, form their shield wall and begin raining a wall of lead on their foes with their magically non-lethal firearms.
‘That said, they do have weaknesses. If you can manipulate the terrain, you can open up their shield wall pretty easily. I keep a pit spell ready at all times in case Lee decides to send them after me, but walls of fire could work pretty well too. Barring that, they’re agile little bastards, but not the hardiest nor do they have the strongest wills. Attack them from the inside, either inside their bodies or their minds, and you should have little issue with them.”
As we listened, Emily and Terry joined us. “Don’t worry, kiddo,” he was saying. “You tried what you had. You just didn’t know how dangerous they were. I once saw Typhon drop two of their companies into the middle of an army with magic. They took down eight thousand men before the remaining soldiers decided getting out of range was smarter than trying to overwhelm them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. At least it wasn’t Larvyn,” he said.
Cortana dinged and Daddy’s voice spoke again. “Larvyn. Now there’s a subject. If I do ever have to deal with Typhon Lee, that’s the part that worries me. How would I deal with Larvyn? I’m honestly not sure yet. Aerial Saturation Bombardment? Thermite and lots of it? I’m more prepared to deal with a Demon Lord than I am to deal with that monster.”
Oh wow. Yeah. I hope we never have to deal with that. I’m also more than a little impressed that Daddy is suggesting that he has a plan for dealing with a Demon Lord. Of course, that plan might be to let Mama and Aunt Kira deal with it, but still, that is technically a plan, I guess.
“I need to talk to your mom,” Terry said to Emily as I was engrossed in my thoughts. It took me a moment to realize what he’d said, and by then it was too late to stop her. Emily was already trying to bring back Persephone.
“It’s not working,” the girl complained after her attempt failed. She seemed really upset.
“It takes about a day for an eidolon to reconstruct its body after it gets destroyed,” I said. “But I promise she’ll be fine.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “Okay. But what do I do if we get attacked?”
“You might be able to summon lesser beings in her absence,” I said. “Cortana, does Daddy have a guide on summonable outsiders?”
“Yes,” the VI answered.
“Send it to Emily’s phone.”
The girl opened the file and read it. “I can summon any of these?!” she asked.
I glanced at the list. “Based on my estimation of your power level, you should be able to summon anything from this section of the list.” I pointed to the part I meant. “Or multiples of the two lists below it.”
“I’m gonna be a master!” she said excitedly. “Like no one ever was!” I felt like that was a reference I should have gotten. It was right there, but for some reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
It had been a long day.
Terry scooped up his daughter. “Come on, let’s get to the chicken house and get moving,” he said. “You can read while we walk.”
We met Gregor back in the corridor. He was surveying the damage to the wall. “I am surprised they were not beavers,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed.
“I know a creek where some beavers live back home,” Burin said. “I can take you there when this is over if it’s pelts you’re after.”
The fighter perked up. “And then my disciple and I will have to rebuild the monastery.” He was looking at Terry when he said it. The assassin looked away uncomfortably.
“I can talk to my father about getting some contractors to help,” I suggested.
“Thank you, but no. We must do it. It will be good training.”
Terry coughed. “Oh, look at the time. We really should get outside before it gets fully dark. You know how early it gets dark during the winter.”
We only made a few hundred feet out into the twilight outside before I had a bad feeling. And I wasn’t the only one. “Something feels…wrong,” Anastasia said, clutching her chest as the near panic I could feel permeating my body washed over her as well.
The whole world melted away and there was an old man there, shining in the blackness, a truly massive spiritual outline of a dragon glowing around him. “Terry,” he said with a sigh. “What am I going to do with you? I must admit, you’ve done better than I expected. I’ve received word that you somehow managed to defeat Rasputin. I am impressed. You always were one of the best. But, dammit, Terry, you always were an idiot when you panic. Why? Why didn’t you come to me when that b!+&* threatened you? Did you think I couldn’t protect you, or was it that I wouldn’t protect you? No, don’t tell me. I’m not sure which answer is more offensive.”
He laughed, like any other old, sweet man. “My business partner is pretty ticked at you for breaking into her place and pulling out Emily. You really should have left her there, you know. I felt bad for my overreaction, so I’d asked her to make your wife and daughter strong enough to defend themselves without you. Sure, her methods are a bit… extreme, but they really would have been better off with her. Still, you cared enough about them to betray me. You cared enough about them to face off against a being so far beyond you as it to be laughable. She won’t tell me how you managed to get out. Something about sneaking and trickery. Impressive.”
He sighed again. “Terry, you broke my heart. Literally, see?” He opened his coat, revealing a patch of ice on his chest. “My other business partner – you know her as Queen Elvanna – has managed to finally repair what you damaged. And now that I’m no longer in an immense amount of pain, I’ve regained clarity and have decided to make you a generous offer. All of you. Turn over the doll. Give me the artifacts Sergei was hiding. And then join me. I promise you all places of honor in my organization.
“For you, Gregor, I will give you a hundred new disciples. You will train them for me, as Sergei should have. For Burin, your family will not suffer for your destruction of the demon. Why should they? You’ve done your people a great service. You should not be punished, but rewarded! Join me and put your skills dealing with threats from other planes to use for the good of the world! Daughter of the Runelord, all I ask is that you ask your father to stop interfering in my business. Indeed, I thought perhaps we would have to come to blows eventually, but instead I think this is an opportunity to become friends.
“And Terry, if you want to retire, safe from your relatives, I will make it happen. Once I absorb the old witch’s power, Melos will be mine, so you will all be safe. You’ve suffered enough. Make the right choice.”
The image faded and the world returned. “Did anyone else just see that?” Burin asked. “I mean, I imagine so, since he was talking to all of us. But I can’t assume.”
“I saw it,” I said.
Greta growled, drawing her axe. “We will not betray Baba Yaga to that piece of s%&#. Instead we will kill him, and I will eat his liver.”
Emily whimpered. “He always came to visit, when the cycles stopped. But he was scarier than anything else there. Even the ponies. There’s something wrong about him. He feels like a big empty, like no matter how much he eats, he’ll never be full. Not even with all the cakes in all the worlds.”
Terry set her down and deliberately drew his gun. “I always thought… You know, running away was always my first option. Finding someone big enough to protect me was second. But right now, I want to kill this dragon. Not for revenge, but because it’s the right thing to do. For you, and your mom, and Toby…everyone deserves justice.” He made a sour face. “Gods, that sounds so sappy.”
“As sappy as the tree you shot?” Burin asked.
“Leaf him alone,” Gregor laughed as he hit his fists together.
“He has to be pretty close, right?” Burin asked.
“I think so,” I said. “Probably between us and the Hut.” I handed Greta the doll and motioned for Burin to give her the keys. “Take Anastasia back into the monastery and keep her safe,” I said.
She looked like she was about to argue, but then just nodded. “Save me his liver,” she said. “Follow me, princess.”
I wanted to keep her safe, but more importantly, I knew she would do everything in her power to get to the hut with the doll and keys if we fell. Even if it meant abandoning Anastasia. Saving Baba Yaga was good for her people, and she’d get it done. But as long as we were still alive, she would fight with everything she had to protect the princess.
“I see you have chosen incorrectly,” the old man’s voice echoed in our heads. “A pity.”
The world shook as Typhon began transforming. I could see the light of the transformation from where we were, miles away. Holy crap, he dwarfed the forest. “Massive” doesn’t even begin to describe him. “Now would be a good time to summon helpers,” I told Emily.
“I’m not sure how. Summoning mom is like being a mirror. I’m not sure how to reflect these other things.”
I nodded. “The thing about mirrors,” I said, “is that what you see depends on the angle of the mirror. Just shift the angle a bit and see what else you see.”
She nodded. “That makes sense. And there are probably six different reflections I can have at a time.” Six? Oh…geez. Now I knew what she had been referencing earlier. The girl wants to be a Pokémon master.
“He is…very big,” Gregor said. “Will he be alone?”
“I doubt it,” Terry answered.
“Then I hope that he does not bring any more rodents.”
“It’s not the rats you have to worry about,” Terry said. “It’s the worms.” He summoned out his platinum dragon as Typhon finished his transformation. Zeus was…colorful. His front half was painted black and red, but the back half had a rainbow tail and doodles all over it. It was cute that he’d let Emily help, but it had the unfortunate appearance of business in the front, clown vomit in the back.
It wasn’t going to intimidate anyone.
Typhon Lee, on the other hand? His unearthly roar sent terror running down my spine from over a mile away. And then I heard heavy footsteps. “It’s Qilin time!” a man’s voice shouted as the no longer invisible man in the rhino costume slammed into Burin with his massive hammer. Gregor retaliated as the dwarf’s shield absorbed the bone-shattering blow. I could feel the shockwaves from his blows as the fighter instantly brought down his foe.
“Good job. That’s Typhon’s grandson,” Terry explained. “He has the power of a fat unicorn.” I decided to not try to explain that it was obviously a rhino at the moment. Besides, we had other problems. “Watch out. He’s never alone. His sister, Kuro, has the powers of the midnight crow.”
“Angles! I choose you!” Emily shouted, as several red and white balls flew from her hands. Where they landed, bralani azatas appeared. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to first explain to her that it was ‘Angels’, not ‘Angles’ or whether I wanted to explain the difference between an azata and an angel. It could wait until after the fight.
I cast a spell, turning Nebbie into a dragon of time. She’d be able to help guard me against this Kuro, if she came. And Typhon was still too far away to deal with, though he was in the air and heading towards us.
Then the lights went out.
You see, I can see in normal darkness. Even in deep caves where no light reaches, I can see. But this was different. This darkness beyond my ability to cut through. I heard fighting. Emily cried out in pain. So I tried dispelling the darkness by conjuring light. Only, something hit me and interrupted me. Felt like the strike from a shield.
Nebbie pushed me away from the source of the blow and got between us. Then I heard gunshots in the dark and the sound of rattling bones. I cast again, and the darkness was pierced. A bone devil was standing there, fighting an armored woman with wings of sable-black feathers. I think Emily had summoned it. It was a smart choice. Devils can see even in supernaturally powerful darkness. Whether she’d thought it through or simply acted on instinct, it was pretty impressive. But we still had problems.
Typhon had landed a few hundred yards from us. “I will snuff out the flame of your life, then I will plunge them once more in blackness, where they will die. Of course, it won’t matter to you. You’ve breathed your last.” His voice was speaking in my mind, the force of his will oppressive. Then he cast a spell, drawing all the air from my lungs.
And I had been worried for a moment. “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.” That’s Sun Tzu. Daddy had quoted me that.
Typhon knew himself, but he obviously didn’t know us as well as he thought. If he had, he never would have wasted time trying to suffocate me. For every second he held his concentration trying to kill me in such a manner, we won. One more second, one more victory. Tick tock, time was turning in our favor.
And we would not waste it. I held him there, pretending to fight against his efforts while the others fought Kuro.
The bone devil went down and Emily conjured a replacement. This time, it was a succubus, who immediately brought her will to bear on the black winged woman. I saw the light in her eyes fade as she succumbed to the demon’s domination of her mind.
“Drop your weapons!” Emily commanded. She sounded angry but excited at the same time. I think the girl might have found her bloodlust. Also, I was kinda weirded out how the succubus looked like a cross between Nocticula and Persephone.
Kuro did as she was told and Terry shot her, a snarl upon his lips. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry. What happened in the dark when I couldn’t see? It looked like Emily had been injured, but aside from some blood on her clothes, I couldn’t really tell.
Kuro managed to break free of the demon’s hold on her mind, but it was too late. Burin and the demon descended on her and tore her apart. She died screaming.
I stopped faking it, and tried to teleport Typhon out into the depths of space. He resisted and realized that I was still alive, somehow. “You should be dead!” he roared. “What are you?! WHY DIDN’T YOU DIE?!” I think the fireball that struck him while he was shouting didn’t do much to improve his mood.
Gregor charged in and got bitten in the process and I was struck by a mass of debris Typhon had flung at me with his mind. Emily dismissed the succubus and summoned azatas once more. Five of them appeared in their air forms, and began battering the massive dragon with blasts of wind where Gregor had struck him, scouring off the damaged scales near the icy heart in his chest.
Terry took aim at the exposed heart, exhaled and fired. The bullet struck true, shattering the heart. There was at first the dull sound of an explosion, like if you’ve ever set off fireworks underwater. Then cracks spread through the form of the dragon like spider webs, and finally it shattered, revealing only the man within, pale, coughing and vulnerable as he clutched his chest.
Terry shot once more, putting a bullet through Typhon Lee’s skull, and the old man collapsed. “Oh my,” Terry said. “Where are my manners?” He reached into his guitar case and withdrew something wrapped in a napkin, which he tossed next to the old man’s corpse. “Mister Lee…I forgot to ask if you’d like some cake.”
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Deadly Comes in All Sizes:{. . .} The girl wants to be a Pokémon master. {. . .}
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** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
We're planning to work in a discussion of everything somehow, either by Terry telling Lyriana about it or by having a mysterious narrator explain things outside character(which would be a setup for something later).