by Shad N Freud
“I think…I think I need to lay down,” Jin said as he fought to remain standing on the lizard’s shoulders. He toppled backwards, his fall arrested by a hand the size of a Gluttony Day turkey as Zeke caught the little guy.
“Cenere! Catch!” Zeke yelled as he flung the gnome into the air. Cenere saw the gnome coming and, without missing a beat, caught him by his belt as he flew past. His wings faltered, the stored energies running out. Cenere looked for an open spot to land and dove for a cleared area near the library where Lama Mercado displayed his own prowess. The monk was protecting the wounded, taking a large gulp of high-octane moonshine and infusing it with hot, spicy ki to spray a crowd of encroaching demons with a massive cone of flame hot enough to melt stone, incinerating the vile beasts who screamed in agony.
Cenere landed hard on his back, protecting the gnome with his own body after his wings failed twelve feet up. He rolled over onto his side, letting go of the gnome after hitting the ground at forty miles an hour. He did a quick checklist, starting with his hooves. They wiggled. Good, not paralyzed. He raised his hands, gritting his teeth through the pain, and placed them on himself, infusing his own body with Hellfire. The pain was excruciating as his cracked ribs knitted back together, his ruptured organs repaired, and the crick in his neck righted.
He coughed, greenish smoke pouring out of his mouth as he stood back up, stretching his limbs to work the soreness out, and then drew his whip. He took a step forward and immediately sank down to one knee as his strength faded. “Oh, come on, not now! I haven’t got time to be tired.” Cenere struggled to get his feet back under him and felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait, youngster. Catch your breath. This is winding down already. Look.” Mercado gestured with his walking stick at the fleeing demons as they made a mad dash for the portals that opened in random spots around the temple compound. Cenere sighed in relief. He fought to stay awake as he watched Carl stride over and then struggled to stand up again, but Carl motioned for him to stay down.
“Rest a bit, pup. You’re understandably knackered, after singing and fighting at the same time. I think I’ve only ever seen one other bard do that, and he was at least twice your age. I’ll handle things for now. Just keep an eye on Jin.” Cenere nodded and watched as Carl lit a smoke and checked in with Mercado before strolling off to go retrieve their new friend.
Carl looked down at the worn-out lizard man. The dazed look in his eye was familiar to Carl, and he shook his head as he threw the heavy lizard’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him to his feet. “Berserker, hey? I get that way meself on occasion. Mama was an orc, daddy was…well, my father’s unimportant. Every now and then, I get so furious my blood starts boiling and I go full caveman on someone. I’m guessing you did that after you tossed Jin like a lawn dart?”
Zeke nodded sluggishly as he staggered along. “Didn’t have my booze,” Zeke slurred as he fought to stay awake. “Drunken style. But I come from a long line of berserkers. Entire tribe got wiped out just after I hatched. Got raised by the temple.”
Carl’s eyebrows shot upward as he looked the lizard in his half-closed eye. “Drunken style? Seriously?”
Zeke nodded, leaning heavily on Carl while they walked over to the tent the healers had set up. “Lama Mercado left his scotch on a low table when I was small. He discovered pretty quickly that he was raising a prodigy of Drunken Fist when I kicked him through a wall while he was trying to take the glass from me. He wasn’t even mad.”
Carl nodded, impressed. He then used his free hand to reach into his coat and pulled out a flask. “It’s whiskey, and it’s rotgut at that, but it should help.” The lizard reached up slowly with his free hand and took the flask, taking a nice, long pull on the cheap hooch. His eyes opened wide, the cheap liquor doing its job to let Zeke stand up straight. He sighed explosively as he felt strength pour back into his pulled muscles, reinvigorating the living Cuisinart. He cracked his back, shoulders, and elbows before taking another long drink, then stared at the flask, giving it a shake in surprise when he realized it was still full. “Everfull?”
Carl nodded with a smirk as he plucked it out of the lizard’s massive hands. “Unfortunate side effect of the enchantment is that it will only produce cheap booze. My pack of Jacks is everfull as well, a gift from the family that owns the brand after I saved one of the kids from kidnappers. Haven’t had to buy smokes in years.”
Zeke smiled then reached back with a frown, noting the lack of weight in his sheath. He rolled his eyes at himself, then looked back to the berm of corpses he’d erected in his rage and trudged back across the field to retrieve his sword. Carl watched him go, shrugged, then turned back to go check on his protégé.
∞∞∞
Jin awoke an hour later and feebly tried to sit up. A gentle hand pressed him back down onto the mat he had been placed on, and a cooling sensation flowed through his body as a drop-dead gorgeous Indian woman infused him with a bit of ki before handing him a glass of water. “Rest, little one. You spread yourself a little too thin. Monk Ziccorro brought your weapons back to the temple and your handler has them in that marvelous pocket mansion of his. Quite an interesting bit of enchanting work, that.”
Jin nodded his thanks as he took a sip of the cool water, moistening his parched throat. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Healer Fanta smiled gently as she shook her head. “No, you’ve helped plenty already. Rest now. I’ll let the others know you’ve awakened.”
Another head rose from a mat next to Jin. “I could use a glass of water too, if you don’t mind.”
The healer smiled as she rolled her eyes. “You’re more than capable of getting it yourself, Cenere. Although, if you’re going to stay here at the temple overnight, I may need some help later. I have an itch I can’t seem to scratch.”
Cenere smiled in a rather self-satisfied way before sighing. “I’d love to take you up on that offer, gorgeous, but I don’t think we’ll be staying. World to save and I work for a major prude. Don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me a rain check?”
The dusky healer smiled coquettishly as she kissed the tiefling on the cheek. “Maybe. Come see me if you’re still alive after your little mission’s over.”
The healer then stood and made her way to other patients in need of her services, a light strut in her step as her hips swayed back and forth. Cenere sat up on an elbow, watching the healer’s rather impressive rear as she walked away.
“Manwhore,” Jin grumbled.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Cenere smiled as he sat all the way up and cracked his back. “C’mon Shrimp. Let’s go see if we can rustle up something to eat.”
Jin’s stomach rumbled before he could bother to argue with the lascivious tiefling and they both got to their feet. The smell of roasting meat drew them to the kitchens, where they saw Zeke rotating a spitted goat over an open flame.
“They’ve got you cooking lunch?” Jin asked quizzically as he watched the lizard man roast the goat.
“Nah, this is for me. Everyone else in the temple is a strict vegetarian. I’m an obligate carnivore. So, I usually have to cook my own food.”
“How does that coincide with the whole Buddhist thing?”
“Pretty well. I need to eat, and all things must die at some point. Carnivores eat prey, prey animals eat plants, both end up feeding the plants eventually. The others don’t need to eat meat, so they don’t. I don’t really have a choice, so my conscience is clear. After all, there are Buddhist vampires, aren’t there?”
Cenere shrugged and looked towards the meat locker. “Mind if we help ourselves?”
Zeke waved his hand towards the locker. “Be my guest. I mean, Lama Mercado wants to get rid of me, so the meat will go to waste if you don’t help me eat it.” Zeke said, his gaze directed at the fire as he fought the urge to sink into despair.
“Get rid of you? Is that what you think, Zeke?” Zeke’s head snapped towards the doorway where Lama M
ercado was leaning heavily against his walking stick. “After you and your new friends get a bite to eat, come to my office. I think it’s well past the point where we had a serious talk, young man.”
Zeke nodded in confusion and ripped a leg off the goat, taking a big bite out of the medium rare meat, bones and all. He quickly devoured the rest of the goat leg, washing it down with a large gourd full of water, and nodded at his new friends as he made his way to the Head Monk’s office, his tail hanging a bit low. Carl strolled out of the room as Zeke walked into it, pausing to pat the big guy on the shoulder before making his way to a broom closet. Zeke watched Carl walk into the closet, then shrugged before he strode into Mercado’s office, the old man sitting at his desk as he looked over some paperwork.
“You wanted to see me, Lama Mercado?”
Lama Mercado looked up at Zeke, suddenly looking much older than his ninety-five years. He stood up and leaned heavily on his walking stick as he walked out of his office. “Walk with me, Zeke.”
Zeke and Mercado walked the halls as Mercado seemed to be working out what he was going to say. Finally, he looked up at and smiled, the expression tired and pained. “Zeke, when you were brought to me, I wasn’t sure if you were going to survive. You were such a little thing, much smaller than your peers for your age. Almost sickly, in fact. Twins within the same egg tend to end up stillborn, but you fought to survive, to live for both yourself and your twin after you ate him in the egg. And look at you now! Seven and a half feet tall, strong as a team of sleigh yaks, and sharp as a tack. And…you need to leave us, sonny.” Mercado paused to look at an ornamental garden for a moment and smiled as he looked at the faded paint surrounding a patch job where one of the students had been put through a wall.
“I don’t say this to make you feel unwelcome, far from it. Our younger monks learn humility by fixing the walls you break with their bodies.” Mercado laughed as he slapped Zeke on his lower back, the tiny old man unable to reach higher than that. “But…Zeke, you’re a gold fish. This bowl will only allow you to grow so large, and you have so very much more potential than you’ve had to use here. You need room to grow larger, my boy! You need to see the world and seek your destiny.”
“So…you don’t want to get rid of me, even though I cause nothing but trouble?”
Mercado paused, using his stick to stop Zeke in his tracks. “Why do you think that? Has someone said something?” Mercado asked, his brow furrowed in anger. “You are not that big of a problem. Sure, you eat like a starving lion and you drink like a fish…and our repair budget has only gotten bigger as you’ve grown, but no. You’re not a problem. You drag a plow all by yourself for hours at a time, and you do it without complaint even though you’ll never eat the food growing in the fields. You built an entire barracks for the junior Monks after one of them burned down the old one because he was sneaking cigarettes. You defend this temple with a ferocity not seen in any Monk below Lama in years. As a matter of fact, after a bit of training to learn how to teach, I was planning on elevating you to the position of Lama myself. These folks simply sped up my time table. Luckily for you, Carl is a Master of the Infernal Fist school of Kung-fu and is used to training junior Inquisitors. As such, until he releases you, he’s your new Sifu. And, after he feels you’ve completed your training in learning how to teach, you will be a member of the staff here.”
Zeke’s eyes bulged out in shock, the expression on his face priceless “I’ll…I’ll be a Lama after this mission?”
Mercado smiled as he patted the younger man on his back. “I’m not going to live forever, Zeke. This temple will need strong leadership and, someday, I expect you’ll be in charge here. I foresee my desk eventually being yours. In the meantime, your job will be to follow Carl and learn. You’re already a powerful warrior and a skilled martial artist. Now, you need to learn how to be gentle with students.”
Mercado pointed over at the kitchen they’d walked back to where Jin and Cenere were trash talking as they made their own goat meat with Carl supervising, laughing as the pair got in each other’s way. “You will always have a home here, Zeke. But it’s time you went with Carl. Be safe, my boy. I’ll make sure we keep your bunk ready for when you return.”
Chapter Five
Jeeves looked up as Carl strolled into the mansion followed by Cenere, Jin, and a large black caiman wearing trousers with a huge pig-sticker strapped to his back. The copper butler blinked a couple of times as he recalculated the amount of food he’d need to prepare for supper. He placed his hand on the wall and sent an order through the mansions internal Aetherweb network, telling the marble golems to prepare an extra-durable bed for their newest guest. He then prepared a tray of cocktails for Carl’s minions, carrying it into the lounge. “Supper will be served in an hour. Can I offer any of you an aperitif?”
“Scotch for me, if you don’t mind. Also, if we’ve any Everclear, bring a tall mug for Ziccorro here. By the by, do you prefer Ziccorro or Zeke?”
“I’ll answer to either,” the lizard said good naturedly. “Also, do you have a training hall in this place? I don’t want my skills to get rusty.”
Jeeves pointed to the entrance. “Master…Ziccorro was it? The door across from this room is the entrance to the fully stocked training hall, complete with non-lethal safeguards, Pain Suppression field, and regenerating training dummies. The hall is self-repairing and self-cleaning, so don’t worry about breaking the walls.”
Zeke’s eyes glistened as Jeeves spoke, his smile growing more and more manic. “The perfect training room!” He turned to look at Carl, “How can you afford this place?”
Carl shifted slightly in his seat. “I killed my mentor. It’s our way. He got old and challenged me, so I beat him, retired him, and sent him off to Hell.”
Zeke’s face fell slightly. “Oh.”
Carl smiled reassuringly at Zeke. “He’ll be out of the oven in about eighty years. Almost guaranteed to get a commission in one of the legions. Hey, it’s nothing to be sad about. He’s got a cushy job waiting for him after he gets out of processing. Me? I’ll be happy with whatever I can get, so long as I’m not riding a desk. I just hope my successor isn’t a complete nob.”
A barely stifled laugh from Jeeves caused Carl to look at him with an odd look. Jeeves shook his head as he walked out of the room to go fetch the drinks, laughing the whole way to the kitchen.
“So, before the elephant in the room starts blowing his trunk, what exactly are we here for?” Cenere asked as Jeeves returned with their drinks. “I know it’s not my place to question orders, but I think I speak for everybody here when I demand to know what kind of suicide mission I got voluntold for.”
“Seconded.” Jin said as he took the clay sake bottle and saucer from Jeeves, nodding his thanks. Jeeves then handed Zeke a large glass jug full of Everclear.
“Alright, alright. I was going to have you gents wait until after we’d eaten, but I suppose telling you an hour early won’t kill me. Meet me in the dining room.” Carl stood, pulling his Everfull pack of cloves out of his pocket. He pulled one out with his teeth and lit it with his thumb. Carl and the others took their seats, with Carl at the head of the table. He steepled his fingers in front of his face as he looked at the three assembled so far and placed his hand on the table. Three copies of Carl’s dossier appeared on the table, one each.
“In front of each of you is a mission briefing. The Prophecy has been translated into simple English. As is the interpretation by the scholars the Inquisition has at their disposal. It’s also how we determined who’d be going on this little sortie. As for how I got this detail, well…I was handpicked for it by Baal, the Archduke of Purgatory. And trust me, he and I are going to have words when I eventually meet him.”
The group opened their folders and read the contents therein. Cenere took a long pull on his drink before spit-taking all over his folder. He coughed as he tried to clear the rum and coke out of his throat. “Time travel? Are you fucking serious?”
&n
bsp; “As a heart attack. You can ask Jeeves, I destroyed my favorite couch and some of the other furniture when I read that part.”
Cenere glared at his superior as the others read their folders. Jin’s eyes gleamed as he read his, calculating interest rates, compounded over several decades… “Say, Carl, fearless leader of ours…I don’t suppose you’d let me have an hour or two to myself after we get to the past, would you? To, say, make a deposit or two in a few banks?”
Carl laughed, his face turning red as he looked at Jin, then started laughing again. Zeke started laughing too, causing Jin and Carl both to turn and look at him. Zeke scratched his head as he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, just wanted to be involved.”
Carl shook his head, snickering as he turned back to Jin. “Not a bloody chance in Hell, mate. No profiteering. We’ll be skirting the rules enough as it is going back in the first place. No changing the time line any more than absolutely necessary. Besides, the thought of you cornering the market on anything makes me nervous.”
Jin pouted as everyone else laughed. “I take back the nice things I said about you, jerk.”
Carl ignored the gnome’s outburst as he placed his hand on the table again and a screen formed on the wall, detailing their itinerary. “We’ll be hopping a cargo plane outfitted with a wooden shed to the Yucatan. There’s an old Aztec pyramid that got discovered recently. We have a team on the scene, two of whom are going to be joining us. The first is Camilla Brown, registered Witch and Inquisitor. She’ll be easy to spot, as she’ll be the only Scottish black woman on site.” Carl tapped the table with his hand, changing the slide. “Next is the last member of our little group, Sachiko Hernandez. Trained in ninjutsu, espionage, and probably one of the most dangerous women I’ve ever read a profile on. She’s been hired by the Church to assist us and will be on retainer until this fool’s errand is over. Any questions?”