Drown Another Day

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Drown Another Day Page 5

by F. A. Bentley


  Lisistrathiel was scheming something. And for once, I was finally going to beat her to the punch.

  “Lis,” I said.

  “Yes?” she asked, all innocently.

  “Wrath is a sin. Envy is a sin. You know what else is a sin?”

  Lis looked at me with a smile on her face.

  “Lust,” I muttered. “You’re planning on eternally damning my soul by seducing me, aren’t you? In my moment of weakness, pressured on all sides, you are going to use your wiles to do just that. Admit it.”

  I had her now. To admit to this would doom her entire plan. Without the element of surprise all she’d be able to do is--

  “Correct.”

  Stopping dead in my tracks, I turned my eyes to her and stared incredulously.

  “Say again?”

  Lis didn’t even slow down in her stretching exercises. “Affirmative. Got it in one. Hit the nail on the head. Correctamundo. Sinner sinner chicken dinner.”

  I glared at her for that last one. “Then this means that I beat you at your own game, and now you have no choice but to give up.”

  “Nope. I was gonna tell you anyways. I’m so proud of you by the way. You figured it out on your own before I even mentioned it. Not that I was trying hard to play it sly but still, that’s my Charlie for you,” Lis said, her voice gushing with pride.

  “You were going to tell me about your plan to seduce me into having hot and heavy sex with you, thereby damning my soul forever and ever?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  Lis batted her abyssal eyelashes at me and said, “Because I want to keep this sporting. It’s just not fair if I sucker punch you. You wouldn’t stand a chance. It’ll make for a solid workout for me too. Get the juices pumping. You know, a challenge? You’ve got a thirty minute head start by the way. Starting now.”

  I walked over to my brand name leather briefcase, loaded my pistol, and jammed it into my coat.

  “Nine Towers breathing down my back, Dagonians out to kill me, Olympians who will probably be more harm than help, and I get to play hide and seek with you too?” I asked.

  “You have Cho on hand to help,” Lis said. “You’ll be fine Charlie. Quit whining.”

  “I’d be fine if you weren’t out to get me!”

  As I reached the door, I turned my head back over my shoulder to see what Lis was suddenly chuckling about. “That’s the thing about hide and seek Charlie,” she said, forked tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth. “Ready or not, here I come.”

  I slammed the door behind me. Better make the most of my head start.

  Chapter 12

  “Hello?” spoke Nerine’s sex-for-my-ears voice on the other line. “Charles Locke, I presume.”

  “The one and only. Nine Towers is honoring it’s alliance,” I replied.

  “That’s good news. Charles where are you now? I have just the thing for you to do,” Nerine said.

  “Just passed Augusta and Calieri. Movement from the fish men already?” I asked.

  “That’s close to Grand Canal. Perfect. Yes yes, plenty of movement. Do you remember that exhibition hall? We have a private club two streets up from there. I’ll text the address to you. We can discuss more when you get here.”

  Click. I shut my cell phone and crammed it back into my vest pocket.

  The cool evening air did wonders to calm me down. A little walk to clear one’s thoughts was always good. Uncertainty, however, tugged at the back of my mind. I knew my orders and I knew Lis’ sentiments on the matter, but I was going to have to get a second opinion on what to do from a certain someone else.

  I hesitated for a moment as I reached into my back pocket, but decided to pull out my ‘ace in the hole’ anyways. He wasn’t very good for conversation, but he was the only offensively oriented magic item I had.

  Keys jingled, as I dangled my key chain ornament in front of me. It looked like a Japanese lantern.

  “Cho. Wake up,” I said.

  “Mmph?” came a ghostly mumble.

  Slowly, surely, the vague imprint of a Human face manifested on the side of the plastic lantern. A tiny mouth opened in a lazy yawn.

  “Master Charles. What is the matter?” Cho asked.

  In certain oriental myths, it’s said that items age just as surely as everything else does. When they turn one hundred years old, they gain a twisted little soul to call their own. Cho was a possessed key chain. Completely amoral, whiny, and especially gluttonous.

  His ability to detect weaknesses in the same time it takes me to rate a woman’s figure on a scale of one to ten was what made putting up with his antics worth it.

  “Don’t call me master,” I replied to Cho. “I’m not even master of myself, let alone you. We’ve been over this.”

  The lantern grumbled before replying, “What’s going to earn me a candle this time, Charles?”

  He ate candles. The little lantern that was his ‘body’ even had a slot to put them in.

  “I need your insight. Lis is being useless. Or rather, adversarial,” I said.

  “Weakness detected: Expecting aide from one whose very nature makes them prey upon Humans like you,” Cho proudly proclaimed.

  I narrowed my eyes as I cut onto a main street, keeping a brisk pace.

  “How much do you know about my position this time around?” I asked.

  “I heard most of it,” Cho said. “That’s why I don’t get your hesitation Mas--”

  His leery eyes darted towards me before correcting himself. “Er, I don’t understand your uncertainty, Charles Locke. Olympians are allies. Use their help and kill whatever a Dagonians is. Just make sure you put your friends between you and anything that wants you to die. If you don’t like your friends, just wait until they’re weak from fighting your enemies, then kill them too.”

  This is what I meant when I said he was completely morally bankrupt. That being said, he had a point.

  “I always get worried when I end up doing what you think is the best course of action. I’ll follow your advice for now. Wait.”

  A thick white fog suddenly fell upon my surroundings. It spilled from the side alleys, and choked the air so much that I could barely make out where the street lamps were.

  My hand twitched towards my wand. “Always a good omen. Thick, ominous fog,” I said.

  Right on cue, footsteps echoed upon the stone streets. All around me crowded at least a dozen humanoid shapes. All wearing fish masks.

  “Weakness,” Cho said, his voice anxious. “Lack of mobility resulting in being outmaneuvered and surrounded.”

  The half obscured thugs gloamed in the fog eerily, sizing me up. They were probably here to kill me off nice and neat. Surprisingly forward for a bunch of shadowy fish men.

  “You guys got here just in time,” I said. “Talking to Cho always puts me in the mood for sushi.”

  The value of Lisistrathiel’s advice was rarely ever obvious right off the bat. Take now for example. She told me that Dagonians are used to being detested. Reviled. Feared. They counted on it in their plans. In other words, if I show no fear, I’ll already have them off balance.

  They rushed me all at once. Gloves were discarded to reveal sharp webbed claws, coral daggers and medieval looking bucklers suddenly appeared in hands, and water magics focused upon open palms.

  “Call em out if they get behind me Cho,” I said, unleashing a tiny ball of light high into the air.

  Covering my eyes, I waited until the rotting stench of fish was dangerously close to me before snapping my fingers. Suddenly my tiny ball of light, barely visible in the fog, erupted with enough brilliance to classify it as a celestial body.

  One eye searing star, coming right up.

  A gurgling wail erupted from the fish masked fiends as they reeled, blinded and bemused. It was all the distraction I’d ever need.

  I drew my wand and in an instant a blade of hard arcana solidified upon it’s tip. I slashed the blade in a wide swing, tearing pri
cey suits and scaly skin with equal ease. Realizing their disadvantage, some of the fish masks flailed, or blindly leaped at where I stood.

  A quick thrust caught the throat of the largest in the group, and just as the giant gurgled and fell, I rammed my shoulder into him. The bruiser bowled over onto its fellow fish, tearing a wide hole in their encirclement.

  Lucky me. For once. Right ahead of me stood a nice narrow alley. As the fish men recovered, I took position at the mouth of the side street.

  “You’re craftier than I remember, Charles,” Cho spoke up.

  “I’m used to being outnumbered,” I replied. “That’s not what I’m worried about though.”

  What I was worried about just parted the ranks of the remaining fish masks. A short hunchbacked shape with an enormous pearl gripped in a claw.

  “Of course. A mage too. Just in case numbers aren’t enough,” I said.

  A gurgling snarl erupted from the fish sorcerer’s throat, as baleful blue magic gathered into his free hand.

  Chapter 13

  Judging by the giant pearl the fish man brandished, he was an orb user. That was the opposite of good. Wands focused on force, allowing wizards an increase in the quality of their magic without losing out too much on stamina. Orbs on the other hand were, pardon the pun, glass cannons. They greatly increased the short term power of magic, at the expense of any long term plan whatsoever.

  The thing is, it doesn’t take more than a single good hit to kill the average Human body, so short and messy orb spells rarely lost out to the more middle range power of a wand.

  The pearl sorcerer swung his slender hand in an arc before him. The splash of enchanted, blue water solidifying into sharp spikes in an instant before shooting towards me at break neck speed. I ducked beneath the deadly splash, brought down the flat of my hand onto the tip of my wand, and severed the tip of the arcane blade. In a split second, I focused my magic into the palm of my hand and forced the tip forth like a thrown dagger.

  Even weak magic can be deadly if properly used. However, my enemy wasn’t some bumpkin novice.

  With a contemptuous grunt, the fish man slapped my arcane missile away, shattering it into harmless violet glitter. Bad. Even worse, he’d already had his counter attack planned. A miniature whirlpool was willed into existence upon the surface of the pearl orb.

  With a gibbering incantation, the fish man punched his free hand into the whirlpool, and inverted it. An intimidating drill-like spike of water sprung out of the orb.

  Too fast to dodge. The spell could probably pierce through a damn brick wall, let alone whatever flimsy defense my suit could offer. Massive water pressure is the cornerstone to the offensive aquamancer.

  The pearl sorcerer hadn’t counted on one thing though. That’s how you catch fish anyways, right? You put your bait on the hook and wait for a bite.

  As the fish mage cast his spell, I cast my own: The mirror of many names. Aegis. Backfire. Most wizards however just called it ‘lesser reflect’.

  A polished, violet oval burst into life in front of me an instant before the drill bolt would have torn me a new asshole, bouncing the whole bolt of water magic back at the mage. Splat. Fish scales and blood painted the alley way.

  When the mist settled, the fishman’s arm, orb, most of his chest, and the thug directly behind him had all been turned into tuna pate. The sorcerer wobbled on unsteady legs, then collapsed with a sopping wet thud.

  The rest didn’t panic. They didn’t run like school yard bullies that had been outmatched. Instead, the fog thickened. A few seconds later, I became vaguely aware that the shapes had disappeared.The only trace that there had ever been a fight was a small puddle of blood, and the sound of heavy bodies leaping into the watery canal.

  I leaned agains the alley way wall, catching my breath.

  “Weakness,” Cho pointed out. “Magical gimmick entirely reliant upon the power of enemy mage. Charles, you--”

  I may have squeezed the lantern a bit more tightly in my hand, because he made a tiny squeak and promptly shut up.

  “Cho, do you happen to know where we are?” I asked.

  “A place called Venice,” came the reply.

  “Yes. And do you know what Venice is famous for?” I said.

  I didn’t wait for his response before walking over to the canal side. Salt water, pouring through canals as far as the eye could see. Gondolas and miniature docks dotted the thoroughfares, and the scent of the sea was impossible to get away from.

  Cho shuddered in my grip. “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes Cho, that’s right. There’s probably more water here than in your worst nightmare. I wouldn’t even have to aim to toss you into the deep end. Got it?”

  “W-weakness,” Cho sputtered. “Deep seated fear of water. Especially wide open expanses such as the sea.”

  The almighty lantern of weakness was not immune to his own abilities. Over time I had become as familiar with all of his weaknesses as surely as he was with mine. It kept our relationship nice and honest.

  “Let’s get going, or else we’re going to be late to Nerine’s little party. I want to get this over with as quick as possible,” I said.

  “But Charles,” Cho still shivering in the palm of my hand.

  “What?” I said.

  “There are foes still present.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned my gaze to the little lantern. “What are you talking about?”

  “Aren’t they fish men too?” he asked.

  I craned my head in the direction Cho’s eyes turned to. Barely visible through the retreating fog, I could make out a barely Human shape closing the door to a building. The pungent scent of salt and seaweed made the air rank as I moved in to investigate.

  The sign at the top of the entry way said Biblioteca Marciana. A library? What the hell do they want with a library?

  “What do we do?” Cho asked.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “We’re going in of course, and we’re taking them out.”

  Cho let out a half grumble half whine. “Why can’t you forget me back at the apartment more often?”

  Chapter 14

  The library was almost completely lightless, and what visibility there was came from the crescent moon outside. The lunar light cast eerie shadows that seemed to sway and shift on their own.

  Thankfully, I didn’t really need night vision to follow the bread crumb trail the Dagonians left behind.

  “Caution, wet floor,” I muttered to myself, peeking past a corner and seeing that the trail of sopping wet footprints led to the basement level.

  An ambush could have been waiting anywhere, so I kept my pace cautious and my wand handy. However, after peeking past a door marked staff only, I saw that the Dagonians weren’t expecting company at all.

  An expansive room bathed in weak green light lay before me. Most of it was filled with boxes, stacks of outdated books, and carts with abandoned custodian gear and derelict bookshelves.

  The very center of the room was the point of interest though. A giant concrete pillar, probably the foundation to the whole building, rose up from the floor. Huddled around it I could just make out two hulking shapes hunching around a Human sized one. The Human was familiar enough that I didn’t even have to wonder who it was.

  Squid mask. But what was he doing here?

  “Working? Working?” asked one of the hunched shapes in an obscene half-whisper.

  The immense shapes were nothing like the fish men I’d just fought. They were towering. Their bulging eyes and the strange growths on their heads reminded me of an angler fish. Were these pure blooded Dagonians?

  “Patience Maxwell,” replied squid mask. Not that he was wearing his mask anymore. His face looked gaunt and sallow. His chin sharp and stubbly. Squid mask had a small box in his hands, and fiddled with it obsessively. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

  Vital support pillar? Strange box in hand? Covertly sneaking late at night to plant it?

&
nbsp; “It’s a goddamn bomb,” I whispered, gripping tight my wand.

  “There, all done,” I heard squid mask say.

  As he held the bomb up in triumph, I aimed my pistol and fired. The first shot struck true, blowing a sizable medium caliber hole right in the middle of the finicky electronics. Begone bomb.

  The two fish men ducked behind the scattered cover, while squid mask, not in the least bit worried about being shot, tossed aside the ruined bomb and turned to face me. His book flashed orange in his hand.

  “You really have a talent at this interrupting thing. Once is a coincidence, but twice? I think we should introduce ourselves,” squid mask said.

  I never took my gun off him.

  “I’m Alexander Ashwell,” he carried on. “Nice to make your acquaintance. You’ve already met George, and the two gentlemen with me are Maxwell and Wimbleton.”

  “You’re pretty damn collected for a man whose bomb was just blown up. Better luck next time,” I replied. “Charles Locke, I’m sure I’m in the American database somewhere.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Locke, but I’ll have you know the bomb wasn’t part of the plan. Just a convenient bonus--”

  “Not enough to accomplish your goals, but you need to level the city while you’re at it?” I demanded, cutting him off sharply.

  Alexander heaved a sigh and shook his head. Shorter than me, his eyes looked tired, even in the dim light. Like he hadn’t slept in days. Wiry hands and stiff posture gave off the aura of a mustache twirling cartoon villain, making his air of politeness seem insincere. I’ll get you next time, Superman.

  “You’re going to interfere, then?” he asked.

  “I appreciate your bluntness,” I replied. “Yes, I’ll be interfering.”

  “Very well. Maxwell, Wimbleton, you know your missions. Withdraw pattern Nautilus.”

  In the time it takes for a thought to cross my mind, Alexander’s book spewed enough smokey ink into the air to make an environmentalist faint in horror. It was thick, it was everywhere, and worst of all? It was sticky as hell.

 

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