Drown Another Day

by F. A. Bentley

  Before I knew what hit me, the door at the far end of the room was bashed open and their wet footsteps were quickly fading down the hall. I was prepared for both pure blooded Dagonians to jump on me. For squid mask Alexander to get his book to cast some horrible spell or entangle me with tentacles.

  I was not prepared for them to flee.

  “Scratch the sushi,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m suddenly in the mood for calamari tonight.”

  Chapter 15

  “Cho, lights!” I shouted.

  Cho’s tiny light grew brilliant, very nearly piercing through the smokey haze.

  Reaching the far side of the room felt like walking through a waist high bog. My elbows were stuck to my sides, and my shoes were thick with inky muck. As soon as I left that room behind me I took off my suit’s coat and sliced the muck off my dress shoes.

  Couldn’t wait to explain this one to my tailor.

  “Location!” I demanded.

  “Up the stairs, Charles, I think they’re running for it,” Cho replied.

  I shook my head. “No. He said they have a mission to complete.”

  As I reached the top of the stairs, I knew that my gut feeling was right. The paths diverged. Two inky sets of foot prints went off in different directions. One straight forward and out the window. Another down a hallway lined with paintings.

  “What are you waiting for Charles Locke?” Cho urged. “They’re getting away.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m making sure they don’t do,” I replied.

  Instead of rushing out the window. Or down the hallway, I turned my gaze to a staircase that led back down into some library sub level.

  “Weakness: Incapable of perceiving flaw in choices. They didn’t come this way Charles. There’s no ink,” Cho all but wailed.

  I grinned from ear to ear as I reached the bottom of the staircase. A puddle of water at the bottom, almost completely hidden by the moon cast shadows.

  “They were counting on me assuming they’d leave a trail. Two were decoys. But one jumped high and far down these stairs to make it look like there was no trail, then doubled back to get whatever they came for.”

  Cho was silent a moment, before replying, “You’re much craftier than I remember.”

  I grinned wryly. “You’re damn right.”

  The sub basement was a labyrinth of cramped hallways and dusty stacks. But one hall in particular caught my eye. In fresh stencil, the words ‘Unclassified manuscript storage’ were stamped over older, carved letters that read OCCVLT.

  “Bingo,” I muttered, and rammed the door wide with my shoulder.

  It was a small room. Impossible to hide in. Especially for such a massive Dagonian. He was hunched over a glass case, trying to pry it open with his dagger-like claws.

  The second he saw me, he threw caution to the wind, and smashed his fist down onto the case, sending shards of wood and glass flying.

  “Weaknesses, hit me with em,” I called out to Cho as the Dagonian turned to face me.

  “Er, large, doesn’t look very agile outside of water. Eyes accustomed to low light--”

  With a flourish, I flicked the room’s light switch.

  Coverless lightbulbs seared to life. They weren’t even very bright, but to the big unblinking eyes of the Dagonian, it must have been like having a search light trained on his pupils. The hulking fish man made the same sound a school girl makes when you throw a frog at her. He raised a giant scaled hand up to shield his eyes and felt around for the contents of the glass case he had smashed.

  Drawing my gun, I opened fire on him, peppering him with half a dozen bloody holes. It hurt him, but it didn’t look fatal in the slightest. If anything, it only made him mad.

  Grabbing a hefty looking book the fish man charged at me, nearly cut me in half with a swipe of his clawed hand.

  Shredded bits of my designer shirt filled the air like confetti as my narrow side step avoided a cool new scar. Finding myself under his guard, what I did next was only natural.

  I swiped the book from the Dagonian’s claws.

  The moment he noticed, the fish man flew into a berserk frenzy. Blinded, empty handed, his only course of action was lots of violence. Where aimed swings failed, perhaps sightless flailing would succeed.

  Books got shredded, priceless manuscripts spilled onto the floor and I? I quietly slipped out of the room, caught sight of a tiny elevator, and pressed the up button.

  The elevator dinged as it arrived. It also alerted the metric ton of angry angler fish that I was not only gone, but that I was about to get away.

  With a gurgling roar, the Dagonian rushed out of the occult stacks, and dove for the elevator. His claws clanked fruitlessly as the doors closed on him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. The elevator ascended.

  “Close. I was not looking forward to tangoing with him in a square meter of an elevator,” I said to Cho.

  Cho was about to reply when the sound of metal being torn apart pierced my ears. A moment later the elevator listed awkwardly before a scaled arm sprouted right out of the elevator floor.

  “Weakness,” Cho cheerfully said. “Tendency to count chickens before they hatch.”

  Chapter 16

  “Shit,” I cursed, mashing my dress shoe onto the grasping claw of the fish man.

  “Back,” it called out. “Give it back. You can’t have it!”

  “What do you call a monstrous nightmare beast emerging from the floor of an elevator?” I asked Cho aloud, before slamming my fist onto the red elevator button. “An emergency.”

  The emergency stop button worked like a charm. With a screech, the elevator cabin came to a halt. No time like the present to get off the ride. I willed my wand-sword to life, and drove the tip into the gap between the elevator door, trying to force them open.

  “Come on damn you,” I cursed. “There!”

  Open far enough to let a man through, I lifted myself up and out of the elevator cabin just as the Dagonian clawed into it up to its torso. Turning around, I raised my wand sword high.

  “My regards to Alexander,” I told the Dagonian, before cutting the elevator’s cable.

  With a screech, the elevator gave, and took the Dagonian on a one way ticket to Hell. I leaned against the nearby wall, desperately trying to catch my breath. My body seemed surprised that it had not been killed. You’d think it’d be used to this sort of crap by now.

  “I’m telling Lis you made a lame joke,” Cho declared.

  It was enough to make me grin.

  “She’d like my lame joke,” I replied. “Now, let’s get out of here before his friends return.”

  A thirty second search revealed an exit. With no sign of Alexander and the other Dagonian, I took it. Before my body had recovered, I was already back on a well lighted thoroughfare. It was even dotted with a couple vanilla flavored Humans here and there.

  I turned to look at my watch, then let out a low whistle.

  “Fashionably late. I love it when I get a chance to look professional in front of long time Nine Towers allies,” I said.

  It was another quarter of an hour until I reached the address Nerine had texted me. The walk did me good. Hard to seem stable while your body’s busy wondering if it’s going to get attacked by nightmarish fish beasts a third time in the same night.

  These assholes need to pace themselves.

  The address led to a ritzy building. The first thing I noticed as I entered was a decadent fountain centerpiece. Two streams of water shot out of the hands of a muscular, bearded man. Trident at his side, he was riding atop a chariot pulled by sea horses.

  “The Olympians sure take their self image seriously,” I muttered.

  “Of course we do, Charles Locke,” spoke a voice.

  I would have flinched at the sudden intrusion, if the voice hadn’t been silkier than a well aged scotch. I didn’t even have to turn around to know that Nerine the Siren had found me.

  “Nerine. Pardon my lateness,” I sai
d.

  “I’m surprised. I thought you’d decided against coming. You look tense, is everything alright?”

  “Splendid,” I lied. “Let’s get down to business.”

  “So abrupt,” the Siren spoke in mock sadness. “You’re not in a rush, are you?”

  “I just get a little agitated when lives are on the line,” I replied a little too harshly.

  Nerine’s face soured a bit, “Oh, don’t get mad sailor boy, let me pamper you a bit while you go handle business.”

  I let out a sigh. “Lead the way.”

  The entrance hall’s right door led to an alien world. While the entrance was a rich marble-like white with the sound of the fountains moving water to catch one’s ears, the room Nerine brought me to was a muted, sleepy red filled with very expensive looking furniture.

  It was entirely empty, except for the presence of single man with impressive musculature. I recognized him at once. Hector, from the exhibition.

  “Charles Locke,” spoke the man, his curly beard smiling right along with him. “I’ve heard so much about you. Come.”

  Chapter 17

  I sat down on a velvety couch. Before long Nerine returned with an ornate cup of coffee. I nodded my thanks, tried not to remember that the last time I’d seen Hector he’d nearly poisoned someone with acid, and then took a sip of the coffee.

  Sickly sweet.

  “So you’re our main contact from Nine Towers. I think it’s a bit much to have to drag a grandiose order such as yours into this mess. The Dagonians are pests and parasites. Nothing more,” Hector spoke up.

  “Two attempts to kill me in the last few hours is not something I’d call pesky, Hector,” I said.

  Nerine and Hector exchanged a surprised look.

  “Two?” Nerine asked.

  “Group of Hybrids intercepted me on the way here. Then some pure bloods in the Biblioteca Marciana. They nearly bombed the place to the ground.”

  “Oh no,” Nerine gasped. “How terrible. But you stopped them?”

  “I’m sure it’s an adequate excuse for my tardiness,” I said, sipping on the coffee.

  I would have preferred a hard Italian brandy at this point.

  “See. A worthy ally at last, even if I do say so myself,” Hector said chuckling. “Is there anything a sorcerer, a Siren, and a favorite son of Neptune like me can’t do when we put our minds together? With your help we’ll have no problem stopping these bottom feeders before things get out of hand.”

  “From what?” I asked.

  Another look was exchanged, before Nerine replied. “What do you mean?”

  I see. Hector may be the face of the Olympian forces here, judging by showboating, but Nerine was the one feeding him responses. She was definitely the brains. I’d better keep that in mind.

  “What are we stopping the Dagonians from doing, exactly?” I clarified.

  The Siren shrugged her milky shoulders and drew a hand through her long feathery hair. “I haven’t the faintest clue. You can never tell with Dagonians. Most likely they’re doing all this for sport. You know, fun.”

  I perked an eyebrow at that. “For fun?”

  “They’re Dagonians Charles, remember?” Hector cut in. “They don’t need a reason. They’re like Viking’s for Father’s sake. They come in, raid and slaughter, and then they leave.”

  My nose caught the sudden stench of lies in the air. I was sure that at least Nerine knew exactly why the Dagonians had come. Maybe Hector too depending how much muscle had replaced his brain. The real question now was ‘what did they have to lose by letting me in on the secret’?

  “It’s gotten so bad that we’ve had to look to other places for help,” Nerine added. “Jupiter, Pluto. Even Bacchus might help against these fiends.”

  So much for ‘easily crush these parasites’.

  “My mission is to put an end to this problem as quickly and painlessly as possible. So, let me be frank. What do you need me to do?” I asked.

  There were wizards and warlocks out there that just loved politics. A well trained brain made for a competent statesman, and so strong mages often tend to make competent administrators. Others, on the other hand, hated politics to death.

  I was in the latter camp.

  Nerine cocked a smile at Hector before returning her gaze to me. “Charles Locke, you should keep doing what you’ve been doing. Not only did you crush an attack, but you even hunted down the ones at the Biblioteca. Those cold blooded wretches are really hot for you.”

  “In other words, I am to be bait, draw out their forces, and if any opportunity presents itself, the Olympians will strike at the heart of the Dagonians?” I asked.

  “You don’t have to make it sound like you’re going to be martyred, sailor boy, but if it makes you feel better then yes,” Nerine replied.

  I could live with this. Not being tied down to Olympian forces made it easier for me to dig deeper anyways. Whether Nine Towers’ best friends wanted me to or not, I was going to get to the bottom of this.

  “Then it’s decided. I’ll be in touch,” I said, rising up from the couch.

  “Don’t you want to stay a bit longer?” the Siren asked.

  There’s a reason Sirens used to ship wreck sailors with their songs. Their voices were to die for, in case I haven’t made that clear enough already. Saying no to her was like pulling teeth.

  “Another time,” I managed.

  “Goodbye then Charles,” Hector called out. “Happy hunting.”

  “Don’t worry,” Nerine added. “We’ll be in touch with you, too.”

  I was down the building’s stone steps before my cell phone rang. No custom ring tone. Who the hell could be calling at this hour? Pulling my cell phone out, I clicked accept and held it up to my ear.

  “Locke,” I said.

  “How portentous,” spoke a familiar voice.

  The hairs on the back of my head stood on end.

  “Squid mask. Alexander Ashwell,” I said.

  “Hard to believe, but you really were in the database. Looked you right up as though you were in the phone book under the heading ‘wizards for hire’. You helped General O’Connor, break up a couple of cults down in Bakersfield California, and you got to the bottom of--”

  “Eager to have your other fishman turned into canned tuna?” I said, cutting him off.

  “Wimbleton survived just fine, thank you,” Alexander replied. “And no, the only thing I’m eager to do is trade. And if that fails, I believe even a simple chat might help.”

  “Trade? For what?” I asked.

  “You know for what.”

  I became suddenly aware of the moist weight of the book that I’d crammed into the back pocket of my dress pants. The tome had practically perked at its mere mention.

  “What’s in it for me?” I asked. Not that I’d ever go through with it.

  “You can name your price for the book when you arrive at a neutral location. No hostilities. No dirty tricks. Club Nyx in thirty minutes. Is that alright with you?” Alexander asked.

  “Exactly what guarantees do I have that there’ll be no tricks?” I asked.

  “None that you’d believe, unfortunately. Scout’s honor?” Alexander asked.

  The bad taste that Nerine and Hector had left in my mouth had peaked my curiosity. If nothing else the meeting would give me a chance to decipher what the Dagonians were after. What did I have to lose?

  “Thirty minutes. Club Nyx,” I echoed. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 18

  “Heavy Metal Night,” I said to myself as I gawked at the sign outside of Club Nyx.

  The screech of electric guitars and the deafened beat of brutal bass rocked the sidewalk outside the club. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a bit of Death Metal as much as the next jaded late twenties year old. That wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was that Lisistrathiel loved it. It must be a Devil thing. And that meant she was most likely going to show up to try and get me. Not that I’d ever let a lit
tle eternal damnation scare me from keeping an appointment with my sworn enemy. I braced myself and went in the front door.

  It was dark inside, and although crowded, surprisingly civil. The band on the stage wore shirts with ‘Blood in the Water’ proudly emblazoned upon them front and back. The lead guitarist was riling himself up into a proper frenzy, judging by the amount of headbanging going on both on and off the stage.

  This called for a drink. The bar was crowded by leather jackets and spiked arm bands, and the bartender looked to be an unassuming woman with heavily pierced ears. Short with wide intelligent eyes, she looked like a good girl that got caught up with a rough crowd.

  “Mezzaluna, if you have it,” I said over the music.

  The girl looked absolutely horrified for an instant before waving her hands, “Uh, I’m just a waitress, I don’t know how to mix--”

  I pointed a finger towards the back, where a stack of well organized bottles of liquor rested. “It’ll be over there with the other Vodkas. You’d absolutely make my day if you brought me a glass. Thank you.”

  I left a bill worth double the drink in her hand and took a seat in the booth that graced the deepest darkest corner of the club. If squid mask showed up with an entourage I was going to need all the space the booth would get me.

  There are real advantages to getting to a meeting place early. It gave you time to prepare if nothing else. Alexander Ashwell, wanted the book for whatever nefarious purpose, so the first thing I did was hide it beneath the dumpster in the club’s alley. For safe keeping.

  Never show up to a trade deal with the goods. There’s no easier way to get yourself robbed and killed.

  I had no intent on giving it to them anyways. Even though I peeked into the book, it looked to be a crudely handwritten log in a language I didn’t recognize. It could have been a spell book for forbidden magics. It could have been half an incantation to grant the Dagonians eternal life. Or it could be Alexander’s embarrassing diary from when he was a kid.

  It might be anything. It might be nothing. That left me with one option. Trawl him for information. And I had a feeling he’d have no problem running his mouth.