Big Trouble

by Andrew Seiple

  Chase just glared at him. Hoon laughed, and tapped the last open spot, to the right of the Noob. “This position shows an enemy or opposing force in the situation. It doesn’t always indicate a person, it could be an obstacle or setback. And in this case it is...” He flipped over the card.

  A man in glowing, gothic armor wielding a sword half as big as himself stabbed the Noob in the back, laughing as he died. The title below proclaimed it “The Griefer.”

  “Ooh. No, that’s a person,” Hoon said, leaning back. “That’s a bad one, too, reversed or no. The Griefer represents a person who doesn’t scruple to murder, to bully, or otherwise abuse their power. In fact, they take joy in it! Especially if it’s unfair or meaningless.”

  “That’s pretty horrible.” Chase gnawed her lip. “How accurate is this? Is this all going to happen?”

  Hoon spread his hands. “It’s a possible future, one of many. But in my experience, the cards are usually right, more often than not. Especially considering your job.”

  “What, they’re accurate because I’m a cook?”

  “No, no. Are you? Hm, that’s good. But no, they’re more accurate because of the job you’ll be accepting very soon.”

  “And what job is that?”

  “Do you know what an Oracle is?”

  “I’ve never heard of that job.”

  He sighed. “Your education is somewhat lacking. Ah well, you’ll figure it out.” He handed the cards back to her. “And that’s one gift down. Two left.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I am allowed to give you gifts, Chase Berrymore. The echoes of the future are strong enough to pull me here and allow some discussion before the fact. It has been so for each of my Oracles and will be so for all that follow. And along with discussion, I can give up to three gifts. Mending your backpack would be one, but well, I broke it in the first place. So that one was on the house. Casting your fortune, that was a gift, no way around it. So, you get two more gifts from me.” He grinned, white teeth bright against his face.

  Chase thought furiously. “You say I’m going to be an Oracle.”

  “Oh yes. Well, maybe. It’s up to you whether or not you pick the job. If you don’t, then the memory of meeting me will fade like a dream. It will be as if it never happened. And any gifts that I pass on to you will find their way to someone else. Just like these did.” He tapped the cards, and Chase’s eyes went wide.

  “You’re saying that my grandmother could have been an Oracle?”

  “Hahhaha! You think you’re the only halven to long for something more? To want to venture outside their comfort zone and just simply walk away from stagnation? But in the end, she couldn’t leave your grandfather. And here you are, as a result.” He scratched his chin. “The question remains whether or not you’re going to make the same mistake.”

  “If she’d left, I wouldn’t be here,” Chase shook her head. “If what you’re saying is true, then I exist because of what you call a mistake.”

  Hoon shrugged. “Good things and bad things come from any decision. But I think you’d get more use out of the job, anyway.”

  “What is it exactly that Oracles do?”

  “Clerics borrow divine power. They ask for miracles from us, and we grant them. Oracles ARE divine power. They are of us. They are of our principles so much, that they can... bend the rules. Healing, yes, some of that. Helping others, sure, that’s not too hard to do. But the real trick to Oracles comes with time, Chase Berrymore. Time is not how most people think it is. If you take that final step, you will see it through my eyes. And nothing will ever be the same. Future, past, all will blur together, and you will bring visions and possibilities to those who need them.” Hoon’s smile grew. “If you do it right, anyway.”

  Chase looked to her cards. Do I want to be an Oracle? Can I believe what he’s saying? She closed her eyes, tried to force her mind to calm, and thought it through. “The cards told the future. Told my fortune,” she said, finally.

  “I used them to do that, yes.”

  “Can you show me how to do that?”

  “Hm. Hm!” Hoon seemed pleased by the request. “Time is slow now, but not limitless. I do not have time to train you. And the next two times we meet, time will be shorter still and you’ll have more pressing things on your mind.”

  “What?” Chase asked.

  “I didn’t tell you that? You’ll meet me twice more, if you have the courage to go through with it. This is the meeting before, we’ll have a meeting during, and one at the end of things.” Hoon folded his hands. “But worry about the now, that’s my advice. You want to learn how to cast the cards... I can do that.” He rummaged in the pockets of his robe, and pulled out a book. It was a small, thick manual, with a black velvet cover, and silver cards traced out around raised letters. The title read “Mysterees of ye Fortuna fore thee addlepated. A handbooke of instruction written by Madame Silver-ravven Wind-wolfe.”

  Chase took it, almost reverently. A book! Just for her! This was a treasure beyond compare, especially in Bothernot.

  “Between you and me, the author’s name was actually Prudence Hogwart, and her enthusiasm far outstripped her spelling and grammar. But still, her heart was in the right place, and she could make those cards sing.” Hoon chuckled. “Mind you, she didn’t learn everything about the Fortuna. Once you get good enough with them you can figure out new tricks on your own, but this’ll get you started.”

  Hoon shrugged. “All right, that’s the second gift. What would you like for the third?”

  Chase swallowed, feeling her nerves on edge. She’d thought up this request earlier, remembering the book she’d read, where Jinkies the Jongleur had tricked the evil djinn into giving her what she needed to escape the Caves of Cooti. Hoon certainly seemed friendlier than the evil djinn had, but she was still dealing with something very powerful and very dangerous.

  Besides, she hoped, if her request was the wrong thing to ask, he wouldn’t smite her down, right? He wanted her to take the job, otherwise he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

  Chase steeled her nerves, and put on her most winning smile. “I think I’d like to have the gift that will be the most helpful to me to survive the upcoming danger you told me about.”

  Hoon stared at her for a few seconds, and Chase strove to keep her grin wide, and her face free of guile.

  Then the god laughed, slapping the table. “Hahahaha! Next you’ll be asking for more gifts! Ah, child. You’re trying to game the system a bit, but I don’t mind. In fact, that’s the sort of thing I applaud.” He leaned in, conspiratorially, and his breath was scented with unknown spices, sweet and exotic as he whispered. “Rules were meant to be tested, hm? And if a little gain falls your way as a result, where’s the harm?”

  LUCK+1

  Chase let out a breath, as he withdrew, pulling out a large pack from nowhere, and rummaging around in it. She was certain now that he was a god. She’d raised her luck not an hour ago, and here it was going up again! That was such a huge lot of experience, she didn’t see how anything but a god could be the cause of it.

  Oblivious to her inner struggle, Hoon continued. “Of course, I can’t just come out and give you the best absolute thing. I don’t know which future you’ll end up in, for one,” Hoon squinted one eye as he pulled objects out of the pack and dropped them back in. “And for another thing, there ARE rules and the difference between bending and breaking them is something even I have to respect now and again. If I just flat out gave you an artifact, then Ag— ” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Then my rival will never let me hear the end of it. Or she will take the opportunity to do the both of us mischief down the road. So, here’s what I’m going to do...”

  He pulled out three things, and set them on the table, one by one.

  The first was a small box, embroidered with stitches over its cloth cover.

  The second thing was a dagger, with a blade easily ten inches long. It glowed with a golden light, and its hilt was carv
ed with images of shattered skulls.

  The third thing was a bag of gold, fat yellow coins spilling out of the cloth, winking in the firelight. More gold than Chase had ever seen in one place. Gold enough to solve every problem she had, and still take care of ones she didn’t.

  “This is a deluxe sewing kit, with a mirror and a tiny violin’s sounding board inside,” Hoon tapped the cloth-covered box. “The sounding board is loose and ready to be sewn into... well, you’ll see. Maybe.” He moved on to the dagger. “This does horrible, horrible things to undead. And this... well, these are fairly self-explanatory.” He picked up a few coins and let them fall between his fingers. “Any of these would solve a potential problem in your near future.”

  “Or beyond,” Chase said, eyes fixated on the gold. There were problems that huge amounts of money couldn’t solve, but it was hard to think of them at the minute.

  Hoon took one last pull of his mug, then he went over to the table of frozen halvens, and downed two of their drinks, one after the other, chugging with abandon. He tossed a handful of coins on their table and brought two more mugs back.

  Chase calculated the odds of snatching one of the golden coins while he was gone but decided against it. She’d never actually flat-out stolen something, and she wasn’t about to start now. Not with a god’s displeasure on the line, anyway. Besides, she thought she could see how this was going to go, and she had a one in three chance of getting what she wanted, anyway.

  Sure enough when Hoon returned, he put a mug over each item, then started moving them around, wood grinding on wood as the mugs whirled across the table. Chase kept her eyes on the one with the coins under it. It was easy, at first. The coins clinked together whenever the mugs moved.

  Then the mugs sped up impossibly, the coins slamming together so loudly that she couldn’t track them by their noise. Even with her ears full forward, sticking straight out to catch the noise, it was impossible.

  Then the mugs came to rest, and the coins fell silent all at once. Chase took a breath. “I pick one now, don’t I?”

  “Your fate is in your hands,” Hoon said, his voice soft. “It always has been.”

  She studied him for a long moment, but his face was impassive. Chase looked from him to the mugs, then back again.

  Here goes, Chase thought, and before she could lose her nerve her hand darted out, snake-swift, and she tapped the center mug. “That one.”

  Hoon nodded and lifted the mug.

  And Chase’s breath came out in a hiss of dismay, as the god revealed the sewing kit. “But I can’t even sew!” she whined.

  “Nonetheless,” Hoon said, satisfied. He pulled the other mugs back, scooping the contents from under them so quickly that she didn’t get a clear look. For a second, she had the irrational notion that Hoon had cheated her, but it passed.

  He flipped open the kit’s lid, and showed her the tiny mirror, the neatly-stacked spools of thread, and the glittering needles.

  “I suppose I would have had a lot of trouble explaining how I got ahold of a glowing knife or a fortune in gold, anyway,” Chase sighed, trying to convince herself that this was the better option.

  “Three gifts I have given you, Chase Berrymore,” Hoon said, his face growing grave and stern. “Once I have visited you. Twice more I shall do so. A great responsibility will be yours if you follow my path, but I can guarantee you one thing.” He paused then, and the silence stretched on.

  And Chase knew a cue when she heard one. “And what is that one thing?”

  “It won’t be boring.” Then he guffawed, slapped the table, and was gone, just like that.

  Time returned.

  The halvens moved again.

  Mrs. Dijetto straightened up.

  Then the fox toy fell to the floor, and all heads turned around at the motion. Chase blushed and scooped it up, plopping it on the table in front of the sewing kit. She twisted, pulled her pack off, and scooped everything in there, fox, box, cards. and book all in one smooth motion. Muttering “Sorry, sorry,” she leaped up from the table and ran out the door.

  Midway down the street, two things occurred to her.

  The first thing was that her panicked flight was attracting attention and stares, and she slowed down. Small towns had big mouths, and if she kept acting strangely, she’d be the focus of gossip for weeks to come.

  The second thing was that one of the gifts Hoon had offered her was a knife that was good at killing undead things.

  Which meant, that if she believed him, and the gifts were calculated to help her survive the crisis to come, that she’d need something that could kill undead things.

  Suddenly the day seemed a lot colder to Chase.

  She couldn’t risk waiting for the Camerlengo. What could she say to the Baroness’ servant, anyway? Hello, a god showed up and gave me a sewing kit and a book about mystical stuff that might get me burned at the stake, and told me that a great crisis is going to hit us, and I’m pretty sure he meant undead are coming— It was about that point that Chase’s train of thought went to torches and pitchforks, and if there was one thing Bothernot had a’plenty, it was pitchforks.

  Chase turned things around and around in her head, looking for the angle. Looking for the way to play this that would keep her and everyone she loved safe.

  And she found that she couldn’t. Not alone.

  Well then, Chase decided. It was time to get some help.

  Five minutes of searching later turned up Greta, holding a ladder while a very cross-looking young halven man stretched himself up, adorning the edge of a roof with knotted ribbons. The work the pair had done so far flapped in the wind, all up and down the street.

  “Greta, I need your help,” Chase said. “Gerben, you’ll be fine on your own, right?”

  “What?” The youth asked.

  “Great, thanks! See you!” Chase grabbed Greta and tugged, almost bringing the ladder over as Gerben shouted and fought to keep his balance, dropping ribbons to flutter everywhere as he clung to the roof for dear life.

  Greta resisted, but Chase was relentless, and for once the younger sister won the match. Or perhaps Greta just didn’t want to tear her frock, it was hard to say.

  Once they were down the street, Chase let go, and Greta slapped her sister’s head.

  Chase winced and rubbed her head. “Ow! Hey, come on. We don’t have time for games.”

  “That’s what I was going to say to you, Chase! What’s gotten into you?”

  “Gods only know. Well, one of them, anyway. He was kind of weird.”

  “What?”

  Chase shook her head. “We don’t have much time. Danger’s coming, and it’s big. We need to find out what it is and how to stop it. Or else... or else I don’t know what’s going to happen!”

  Greta took Chase’s shoulders in her hands, and bent down a bit to look her in the eyes. “Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

  “Oh Greta.” Chase hugged her big sister, and after a surprised second, Greta hugged her back. “I... I can’t tell you. It’s all too wild. Too strange. But I need your help, or else really bad things are going to happen. I know it, I just know it!”

  “Okay,” Greta said and disengaged herself from her sibling’s arms. “So what do we do about it?”

  Chase took a long breath and let it out. “It’s the woods. Everything centers around the woods. We need to go out there, follow where Dad and the others went, and see what’s really happening. Not the direction they sent us out in, but the other way. They’re hiding something. Once we find out what it is, we’ll know how to fix things.”

  “All right.” Greta sighed and checked her pockets, pulling out rolls. “I’m down a few, but this should be enough for a couple of hours.”

  “I haven’t done as much, you can share some of mine if it comes to it.” She shifted her pack on her back...

  ...and for a few seconds, it seemed to wiggle.

  Chase almost checked it then, and if she had, she would have been very, very surpr
ised at what was going on in there.

  But she didn’t. She had far too much on her mind.

  The two sisters headed out into the woods, leaving Bothernot behind them and passing beneath the brown-leafed branches, leaves crunching underfoot as they ventured into the unknown.

  CHAPTER 5: MEETINGS AND MISCREANTS

  Long ago, a priest of Old Koss had come to the edge of the wide forest that would eventually be the building site for Bothernot village. Old Koss, being the god of farmers, granted the cleric the godspell “Lay of the Land.” The priest surveyed the area, tasted the soil, hitched up his overalls, grunted a lot, and determined the best place to put the fields.

  The settlers followed his directions, and as the decades went by, he steered them mostly right. And every time one of the farmers decided “Hey, I think I’ll start expanding into the northern forest,” the cleric told them in no uncertain terms to leave it the heck alone.

  Nature was good to Bothernot. Nature gave Bothernot its bounty, coaxed from rich soil, calm winds broken by the hills, and fresh water from a plethora of creeks and streams.

  But nature was also hungry, and those who got greedy and tried to carve too far into the northern forest got to experience that firsthand. Or so the stories went, because when people disappear in the woods, who is really to say what happened to them?

  There were a few things that the northern forest was good for, and it was one of those things that Chase wanted to journey towards now.

  On the surface of it, Chase and Greta were tempting fate, and whatever hungry bears, tunnelsnakes, and stumpthumpers were out there, with a free two-course meal.

  But as Chase explained to Greta, the situation wasn’t as dire as all that.

  “We know that Father came this way. It’s likely the others did, too. There’s no way that Tollen Wheadle could have gotten the dwarf woman to his place without the whole village seeing, otherwise.”

  “You know we’re going to be in big trouble if they see us out here, right?” Greta slouched, eyes flicking around the trees, braid jiggling as she twitched at every noise.