by Hayes, Drew
“Look, Mister, I don’t know who you are or what your deal is, but you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for a chance like this. You are not gumdropping it up.” This voice belonged to Al, though it carried a more forceful tone than anything she’d utilized so far. Something else, too: an edge of danger, a thread of warning. Spend enough time around people who hide their real power, you begin to catch the warning signs that the veneer is slipping. Since I had no idea what Al was, I also lacked any clue as to what form her “cutting loose” might take. Given the situation we were already in, it was hard to imagine it would make things better.
Saying a silent prayer that Lillian was nearby, I steeled my nerves and stepped into view. Gregor was halfway down the hall, maybe ten feet ahead of me. Another ten feet past him was Al, wearing a stern expression with her hands on her hips. Someone might have called it adorable, if they weren’t smart enough to realize that tremendous power could live in unassuming packages.
“For reference, I do expect instructions given to an employee to be followed. I believe I instructed you to run if you came across any danger, Al.”
“Until I sign a contract, this is an interview, meaning you’re not my boss yet,” she countered.
Gregor, on the other hand, completely ignored our banter. At the sight of me, his face pinched. “Too dangerous for you. Go back to the crowd.”
Well… that sort of put a hole in our assassin theory. Gregor seemed more bothered by my appearance than intrigued or delighted; definitely not the behavior of a man whose target had just shown up. From a few rooms away, I heard a distinctive clatter, followed by thumps and thuds, like the sound of fighting. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one, as the noise seemed to light a fire under Gregor.
“See? Too close. Go. I shall come for you after.”
“Hang on, who is that?” I whipped through a mental tabulation, a rare chance where my talents with numbers was of use beyond activities that required a desk. Everyone was accounted for—be it in the crowd, or this hallway—save for Lillian. She would make sense as one side of a fight, but who was she against? It would have to be a totally new entity, someone completely unaccounted for. The idea that we could have an unseen intruder was tough to swallow, but there had certainly been enough chaos and confusion for a bit of stealth.
Another series of bangs, this time coming from much closer—a single room away, if that. Al let out a yelp of surprise, leaping to the far wall, away from the noise. Gregor, on the other hand, took a more direct approach. He started on a direct course for me, hands already outstretched.
“If I must move you myself, so be it.”
I darted back, quicker on my feet than I’d expected—not that Gregor made much of a grab. By retreating, I was already giving him what he wanted. Unfortunately, from Al’s perspective, it must have looked like he was making a real move. To my utter shock, the diminutive woman raced down the hallway and leapt atop Gregor’s back, moving a hand over his face like she was trying to block off his nose and mouth.
“You waste your time, little one. I am not so easily fell—ACK!”
Whatever cool speech Gregor had planned was cut off as an explosion of rainbow glitter engulfed his head, a sizable amount of the material going into his open mouth. He hacked and coughed as the cloud spread, coating everything in a thin layer of sparkles. While Gregor struggled to regain his composure, Al slipped daintily off his back and raced over, taking my hand.
“Let’s go!”
She tugged hard, finding my body unmoving as I planted my feet. “Thank you, Al. I sincerely appreciate the concern. Thing is, that sound is one of my friends. I have no idea if I’ll actually be of any help to her, but I have to go try.”
The response earned me a look of befuddlement and, unless I missed my guess, hope, strangely enough. “Not many bosses would dive into the fire for their assistant.”
I laughed, which was more mirth than I felt. But if Krystal had taught me nothing else, it was the power of chuckling at the reaper. “Lillian is definitely not my assistant, though that’s not really the point. I said it already, she’s my friend. A member of my clan. Given the chance, I’d happily hand this off to one of the members actually suited for it; sadly, that’s not an option. Better to be here and useless than to have Lillian need me while I’m running away.”
It was one of the most cohesive, non-cowardly speeches I had managed. Unfortunately, the moment was cut short by a loud crashing sound as one of the nearby walls collapsed completely. I had just enough time to see Lillian whip by and slam into a door, knocking it clean off the hinges.
The thing that had thrown her was immediate and distinctive. Unable to properly fit in the building anymore, it undulated, slapping against walls and ceiling as it struggled to move in the tight space. The dark green hue was the first clue that something was off, as were the hissing mouths that had formed at the edge of every appendage. Near its base, I noticed the twinkle of glass cracked along what counted as a body. Just like that, it all fell into place.
In one fell swoop, we’d found our intruder, the missing tengatulon, and what I suspected to be the remnants of Amy’s lost potions. The good news was they were all one. The bad news was that those hissing mouths had turned from Lillian to where Al and I were standing. In a flash of green, it came barreling toward us, countless tentacles snapping for our flesh.
7.
One of the mouths must have had a taste for accountant, because it veered toward me as the tengatulon rushed forward. This close, I could see the bark-colored fangs dripping dark purple liquid, which could be anything from poison to a drug that made music outstanding . We were dealing with unknown Amy potions, mixed with a creature who had distinctly non-human physiology. Anything was on the table, a thought I tried not to dwell on as I backpedaled.
Unfortunately, having already retreated from Gregor left me little room to work with. I should have probably gone back around the corner to the other hall, but when untold pounds of hungry monster are bearing down on you, directly back sure sounds like the best direction to move. I made it all of six steps before smashing my rear against a wall. One glance told me there was nowhere left to go in that direction, and by the time I turned back, that hissing mouth was nearly on me. It lunged, fangs out, striking for my center of mass.
Instead, the fangs struck and subsequently broke against the thick arm of Gregor, who’d managed to wipe some of the glitter from his face now that the coughing was under control. As the tengatulon mouth pulled away, I could see the shattered teeth, as well as the tears in Gregor’s sleeve. It wasn’t any sort of armor that had halted the bite, merely his skin.
“I see now why Gideon chose one of my station for such a task. You are troublesome to protect.” Hand striking with unexpected grace, Gregor grabbed the rogue tentacle with the broken mouth, dragging it and the tengatulon back in the direction it had come. As he did, I caught sight of Al on the other side, easily dodging every strike the tengatulon sent her way. She was nimble as could be, waiting for us rather calmly as she avoided the attacks.
While Gregor dragged, the tengatulon took notice, sending more and more of its enhanced appendages whipping down on him. No matter where they hit, the result was the same: shattered fangs, torn clothing, and not so much as a scratch on the man himself. On one hand, I was still reeling from him having so casually dropped Gideon’s name, but as I watched him shrug off the assault, I mentally replayed our exchange earlier that day.
“Gregor, please forgive me if this is presumptuous, but are you, perchance, my new bodyguard?”
The tengatulon was in a frenzy now, whipping Gregor with its already broken-mouthed tentacles, causing more damage to itself than to the man it attacked. Gregor seemed unbothered by the increase in effort, glancing over his shoulder to shoot me a distinctly sour look.
“As I told you before, I am Gregor, of the Slate-Claw clan. First in my cracking, first in the fang and the fist, initiate in the order of the Obsidian Talon. By declaratio
n of his majesty, Gideon, King of the West, Savior of the Slate-Claw, Slayer of Traxmort, I am hereby bound to your service as protector. Until failure or dismissal, I will protect you down to my final nail and scale.”
While he was talking, Gregor deftly grabbed another tengatulon tentacle and began tying it in a knot with the first one he’d grabbed. Watching the tengatulon struggle, snapping walls and leaving dents everywhere, I realized that this creature was still extremely powerful—it just couldn’t stand up to Gregor’s raw strength.
A moan from the doorway reminded me of Lillian, who I quickly dashed over to check upon. She was hauling herself up from the rubble, wounds already healed. As a rule, we both kept ourselves well fed, just in case, and especially on any night where we interacted with the public. Shaking her head, Lillian seemed to come around fully, hopping back to her feet.
“Where’s that snapping bastard? I’m ready for round… two…” Lillian’s voice trailed off as she noticed Gregor, who was already tying a third tentacle into the growing knot, his clothes turning to shreds as the tengatulon continued to struggle. “Huh, that’s a surprise. Fredrick, any insight?”
“That’s Gregor,” I explained. “We haven’t done a full sit-down yet, but I think Gideon sent him to be my new bodyguard. No idea if that went through the Agency or not, though.”
“His majesty has had the proper forms filled out to appease the keepers, even if his word alone should be more than enough.” Another snag; it was getting easier as he tied off more of the tentacles.
Lillian let out a sharp whistle. “Damn, that is strong fella. The tengatulon gained a lot of power from something; my cuts were doing crap-all to leave a mark. Is he a therian who shifts into a gorilla or something? Hard to hear with this ringing in my head.”
“He says he’s of the Slate-Claw clan.” Al wandered over, as there was no longer a threat to dodge. In fact, the tone of the room had become rather subdued while we watched Gregor handily clobber the charging monster.
This time, she didn’t whistle. Lillian’s eyes lit up as she looked Gregor over again, examining him with a fresh perspective. “That would explain it. Slate-Claw is a gargoyle name. I’ve never actually seen one in action, only heard the rumors. They’re said to be among the hardiest parahumans out there. No known weaknesses—not even silver can get through their armor. Supposedly, they can go without food and air for weeks, if needed, and as you can see, they’re strong as hell.”
Given that we’d just watched Gregor tie up a monster capable of knocking Lillian through a wall, that part was certainly not up for debate. Having more or less immobilized the creature, Gregor wiped his hands on his largely tattered slacks; some of the tengatulon’s blood (or its version of it) had gotten on him as it struck. Regarding Gregor himself, the man was completely unharmed.
“The bigger question,” Lillian continued, “is why one agreed to be your bodyguard. They are legendarily closed off, even from the rest of the parahuman world. I can’t imagine Gideon’s paying what one would cost just to act as your protection. Dragons don’t part with gold that easily.”
“I would never sully the honor of the Slate-Claw by demanding compensation from His Majesty.” Gregor actually seemed to rile a bit at that, the first emotional blip I’d really clocked on him so far. “Centuries ago, Gideon took mercy upon my ancestors in our darkest hour, saving our clan from extinction. He is our hero, our patron, the only king we kneel before. Since then, the greatest of us have had the honor to work in his service. His Majesty said you were useful to those who mattered to him; therefore, he wishes you to live, and it is my duty to see his desires made real.”
It was a lot to take in, especially from someone who’d been fond of brevity thus far. The key points were fairly easy to shake out after a moment’s consideration, though. Gregor had a deep, powerful loyalty to Gideon, who’d ordered him to act as my bodyguard. He clearly took any order from our local dragon-king seriously, and had already shown competence at the work. So far as sudden surprises went, a capable bodyguard wasn’t the worst. And as a bonus, this one hadn’t even come in threatening to kill me, so he’d already made a better first impression than Deborah.
Another series of crashes came from back toward the kitchen, causing all of us except Gregor to bristle slightly, ready for another attack. While one didn’t come, I noticed a rise in noise. The crowd was getting antsy; they must have finished all the food. I could already hear footsteps of them heading in our direction, no doubt in search of fresh grub or distractions.
“Glad to have you on the team, Gregor. I don’t suppose you have any talents in dealing with a crowd of drugged-up parahumans, do you?”
“Not any you’d like.” He slammed a powerful fist into his open palm, producing a serious crunch that was very disconcerting. Gideon must have briefed him on my attitudes toward violence. He hadn’t killed the tengatulon, only tied it up.
From behind Lillian, Al stepped forward, gaze running from me to Gregor. “You really don’t care what we are, do you? You know nothing about gargoyles, but welcomed him without a second thought.”
“He’s here to help, sent by someone I trust to not want me dead. The rest is basically just details,” I replied. “I care a lot more about the fact that he jumped in to keep us safe than what his particular nature is.”
“I’m going to remind you of that when the water cooler contents turn into strawberry lemonade.” As she spoke, Al kept walking, past Lillian and Gregor, past me, putting herself at the hallway’s turn, where we could already hear the thunder of the approaching horde. She stretched her arms out, interlocking her hands and popping the fingers in a slightly disturbing way. As she shook them out, sparkles of glitter and a few flower petals drifted to the ground. Her shoes tumbled through the air as she kicked them off, pressing her bare feet against the cheap carpeting and hunkering down into a sprinter’s stance.
I glanced down and noticed that the shoes were fading, falling apart into strands of woven grass that in no way resembled their previous shiny black surface. “Al, anything you want to warn us about?”
“Warning wouldn’t really help; I’d suggest you just enjoy the show. This isn’t one I’m going to put on very often.”
That was when the crowd came into view, the centaur and the pale man leading the charge. Al didn’t waver for a moment. Already, she was sprinting toward them, moving quite fast despite her short stature. As she ran, the lights began to flicker. Not out, but to different colors, like someone was trying to start a rave indoors. Faster she went, right on course with the centaur, neither of them giving so much as an inch to the side, barreling toward one another at top speed. I felt sure Al would jump or dive at the last minute, do something to turn this to her advantage. It turned out, I was dead wrong. Al didn’t do any sort of acrobatics or nimble attack.
Instead, she ran directly into the torso of the centaur and exploded.
8.
When I say “exploded,” that’s not to imply that a bomb went off and a shower of viscera rained down upon the job applicants. However, I do stand by the word choice, because there truly was a blast as Al vanished. It tore out from where she’d been moments prior, a wave of light and sparkles that crashed over the entire crowd, momentarily stunning them. A flash caught my eye: something moving fast, too quick for even vampire eyes to properly track.
It was like a living trail of light weaving through the group, and as I watched, I realized it wasn’t just zipping around. The light was binding everyone with chains of flowers, an endless rope of flora wrapped around every arm, leg, and near-approximation the parahumans had to offer. While that might seem like it would be entirely useless against such powerful creatures, to my shock, each person bound soon slid to the floor. Not in pain (rather the opposite, based on their expressions), yet completely incapable of rising to their feet. As the last of the flower chains was woven, only two people remained standing. Bubba and Amy had been spared the fastening; not that either looked particularly aware of
that. Whatever Amy had cooked up, it was still hitting them hard.
The light zipped over then, stopping in front of us. Seconds later, Al reappeared, only her outfit was now quite different: a green dress that seemed to have grown on her rather than be donned, golden shoes like the first rays of sunlight, and giant gossamer wings that made quite a statement piece.
“For official purposes, my name is Alstroemeria. To answer what you must be wondering: I’m a pixie. Don’t worry if the size threw you; not all of us can change our shape naturally and few bother learning the magical route, preferring to stay small.”
Despite the bravado, there was a touch of nerves to her voice that hadn’t been present before. She’d just shown us her power, and while it was very impressive, there was clearly more to her nature than had been spoken aloud. This did put the strange occurrences I’d been noticing into new perspective, however.
“Al, pardon if this is indelicate, just trying to make sure I properly understand things. Pixies are a species of fey, correct?”
“Summer fey,” Al specified. “We’re supposed to serve as messengers of joy and fun. It’s why my magic always tries to shape itself like, well…” Jerking her thumb up, she pointed over her shoulder, past the gossamer wings, to the hall of bound parahumans. “Flowers, candy, glitter, rainbows; you get the idea. I’m pretty sure you’ve noticed, but it doesn’t always happen by my intention, either. Kind of a residual aura I give off; if you bring muffins by my desk, there’s a good chance you’re leaving with cupcakes.”
Now, at last, Al made sense to me. She was bright, eager, and clearly capable, yet with her track record, there had to have been some kind of issue. This was inconvenient, certainly, but nowhere near as vexing as it would have been in a more traditional work environment. I imagined glitter suddenly showing up on documents in my old corporate gigs and suppressed an involuntary shudder.