“Oh. Gadram’s not trying to kill him,” Renny smiled, and for the first time Chase noticed just how sharp his little teeth looked. “We figured out how to get him here. At the end of the day Gadram’s a Burglar, remember?”
And then Vaffanculo’s voice howled through the village, rising in a note of pure fury. “Stop, you thief!”
Renny threw his arms up, leaned out from behind the pew, and called out, “Phantasm!”
The air in the church shivered and turned to mist, just as a stout figure burst in through the doors, rolling in a frantic tumble.
The Necromancer shouted from behind him. “Drain Life!” Black energy crackled overhead and scarred the wood across the room. Dust fell from a grayed and worn line, entropy eating away at the wainscoting by the altar.
Renny waved once more, then pulled back as the mist thickened. And a bearded, grinning dwarf hunkered down and ran over, showing off his prize with smugness as he waved it in front of the two girls.
He’d stolen back Thomasi’s Ringmaster hat.
“Turns out ya don’t need to exactly see someone to steal from them. So long as ya know what you’re trying to steal and about where they are.”
Chase stifled a laugh, as heavy feet stomped into the church, and Vaffanculo swore. It got a lot less funny when he was thirty feet away from her.
“Oh. This is cute,” he said, and she could see his silhouette in the doorway, backlit by the distant firelight. “But I’ve seen too many horror movies. Hell, I am the horror movie to you pint-size pukes.”
Chase and Greta shared a look and held their breath.
“Command Undead, come to me!” Vaffanculo roared then, and the two halven sisters turned their gazes from each other and stared back at the trapdoor.
Chase pushed her lips down to Renny’s ears. “Is Thomasi still here?”
He nodded and pointed in the general direction of where Thomasi lay. The same spot, Chase realized. That was good in a way and bad in a way. Good because she knew where he was, bad because he was in pew very visible from the door.
Then she pushed her face over to Gadram, so close that his beard tickled her nose. He flinched, but she caught hold of his cheek, and whispered. “I need the wagons. Give them to me!”
“What?”
“The little toy wagons you picked up!”
Wordlessly, he passed over a pouch. It was far too small to carry them, and Chase looked from it to him.
Fortunately, he deciphered her confusion. “It’s a loot bag,” he whispered back, his breath smelling like onions. “Bigger on the inside.”
Chase nodded, looked over to Greta. Now for the backup plan, she thought. The small Oracle made sure Greta’s attention was focused on her, and mimed drinking with both hands.
Greta nodded and pulled out the bottle of scumble that they’d found under the inn. She popped the cork—
—and Vaffanculo, curse his heart, heard it. “Ah-ha! Razor Arrow!”
Razor Arrow? Chase had just enough time to wonder, and then there was a CRACK, and splinters flew from the pew they were crouching behind.
“Go!” yelled Greta and chugged for all she was worth, eyes crossing from the effort.
Chase hesitated. “Foresight!”
One dead ghostly version of herself later, she knew which way NOT to go, so she tried the other way...
...and cried out in pain, as the band of pain in her chest snapped.
Major divergence detected! Feedback generated!
Foresight inaccessible for 23:59 minutes and 57 seconds.
Now? She had to deal with this now? One of her most powerful abilities was useless now, at the worst time it could happen!
Though, to be fair, she’d been lucky so far. Very lucky. She’d managed to dodge divergence up to this point. And there was no time to angst over the fact anyway. Now she ducked low and ran, hearing the bottle gurgle behind her...
...and hearing groans mixed with rattling wood, as the first clown zombies started pushing their way out of the remnants of the trapdoor.
“I’ll hold them!” Renny yelled. “Gadram, support Chase!”
A whizz-snap, and a far pew exploded into splinters. That was a crossbow going off, Chase realized. Razor Arrow’s probably an Archer skill. Where’d he get a crossbow?
The prison, of course. She ducked under a pew and scrambled, crawling through the mist. He was firing blindly due to it, relying on sound.
Snap!
Gadram yelled in pain.
The problem was, that the Necromancer had pretty good ears. The good news was that Gadram wasn’t dead. Chase started to heal him, paused, then amended her choice. “Silent Activation, Lesser Healing,” she muttered, then repeated it twice more. And wow, wasn’t that a headache coming on. Her sanity was going quickly.
Finding one of the bottles that Thomasi had drained, she glanced across the way. A shape loomed out of the mist where the Ringmaster lay in a snoring heap. He wasn’t far, just five feet across the aisle.
“Come out come out, little rats...” Vaffanculo hissed, right next to her. She looked over and saw his feet through the mist and swallowed hard. If he bent over now, he’d see her. It was that simple.
“Manipulate Air!” Renny shouted, and the Necromancer’s feet shifted. Snap went the crossbow directly above Chase, and taking a gamble, she grabbed the bottle and whipped it through his legs, through the doors, to shatter on the cobblestones of the street behind him.
Your Throwing skill is now level 24!
Chase expected him to turn and look.
She didn’t expect him to curse, whip around, and try to leap back.
She certainly didn’t expect him to collide with the pew and send the halven-sized bench flying.
She really didn’t expect him to land on her.
With a soft cry and a red ‘18’ bursting out of her, Chase scrambled to move and get away.
For his part, Vaffanculo thrashed and pummeled her, and gods, he was strong. A lucky blow caught her on the cheek and something crunched, and Chase’s head exploded with pain and ringing, as her mouth filled with blood and hard little flecks. Teeth, she thought, dizzily as she rolled away and covered her head. Those are my teeth, she knew, as she spat them onto the floor. “Leshar halilng,” she tried, but as she did, a hand seized her by the hair. She shrieked as Vaffanculo rose, jerking her to her feet as he did so.
“Stupid mahb!” Vaffanculo roared. “Drain—”
Then Chase felt his grip slip from her hair, as he screamed. He rammed into her, she stumbled forward and ran for Thomasi. The mist disappeared and she glanced back, just a second, to see Gadram holding onto Vaffanculo’s shoulder and stabbing him repeatedly in the side. But then Vaffanculo had the dwarf, and was forcing him back with inexorable strength...
Chase whipped her gaze back around, as she reached into the loot bag and dumped wagon after wagon next to the Ringmaster, six in total. Then she slammed a hand down on Thomasi’s chest. This next part would be hard. It would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“Abforb condisson,” Chase lisped, spraying blood through the holes where she’d lost teeth. “Abzurb confishun. Absorb Condizzi!” she sobbed.
She couldn’t speak properly. Couldn’t say the words she needed.
Behind her, Vaffanculo shouted “Drain Life!” Gadram screamed, and there was a thud. Then silence.
And Chase, in a sudden moment of clarity, remembered that she didn’t need to speak in order to do her thing.
“Silent Activation, Absorb Condition,” she mouthed. And the words, those magical words, those infuriating and inscrutable and wondrous words knew what she meant.
Which was both good and bad in its own way.
You have been afflicted with Drunken Stupor!
Instantly Chase’s pain started to leave her, drifting away. Then vision started to flee, crumbling around the edges as the world fuzzed and spun.
This was the part she hadn’t been sure about, she thought, as she tried to find Vaff
anculo. She thought he was the tall silhouette to the side, knew it as he spoke.
“Drain Life,” he said again, and she flinched, but it wasn’t aimed at her. At her feet, a stout form jerked and breathed its last under the crackle of dark energy.
Gadram Granitegrin has left your party.
“You’ll pay for that,” is what Chase tried to say. But judging by his scornful laugh, her words hadn’t been anything of the sort. So instead of banter she focused on getting nearer, one stumbling step at a time. The blackness was all through her sight now, her vision pinpricks of light.
But Chase fought on.
Thomasi had drunk himself into a stupor.
But Thomasi was a human.
Chase was a halven, and by all the gods, she would not prove inferior in a matter of digestion!
CON+1
Blurry movement, and hands grabbed her under the armpits, lifting her up to a sneering face. Beyond, she could see silhouettes in the darkness, undead clowns out of the trapdoor now, blue eyes roaming among them. Then her vision blurred, and Vaffanculo’s face was right there.
“...what were you trying to do, precisely?” he asked, looking disgusted.
Chase smiled beatifically, burped, and put her hand on his cheek.
“Silent Activation, Transfer Condition.”
Your Transfer Condition skill is now level 3!
You are no longer afflicted with Drunken Stupor!
Her sight returned as he dropped her.
Chase was stone-cold sober when she hit the ground. Unfortunately, her pain’s return bent her double as she clutched herself. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry through her ruined teeth...
But she knew she’d die if she did. So instead she burned more moxie and rapidly-disappearing sanity and mouthed the words, “Silent Activation, Lesser Healing.”
No blows came, as she felt her lost teeth return. No undead claws or crossbow bolts rained down as she stood, spitting out the last blood.
Chase scurried back, keeping an eye on Vaffanculo, who was standing there shaking. He stared, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight, glassy and unfocused—
A hand caught Chase from behind.
She shrieked, pulled the heavy glass jar from her pockets, and tried to slam it into her attacker...
“Pickpocket,” snapped a familiar voice.
And the jar was suddenly gone. She looked up at Thomasi, who cracked open the lid, and took a sniff. “Circus peanuts? You shouldn’t have!” He dug one out and chewed it, staring around the church.
The nearest wights hissed and drew closer. Chase shrunk back against the Ringmaster, shuddering and counting blue eyes. Two, four, eight... oh, this was bad. And Vaffanculo himself wasn’t down! He was staring at them, leaning against the pew for support, but he was still up! She wasn’t sure what kind of demon was powering him, but she could almost feel the waves of fury and determination pouring off the Necromancer’s stout form.
“You took my hat, Vaffy,” Thomasi said, handing the jar back to Chase. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Shoulda... jus’ given it to me. Godsadam carra barra.”
“I told you this was a bad idea. We didn’t need our loot back from Pandora that badly.”
“I’ll go wivvout you! Jus’ gotta... gotta... make more undead. Better ones. Use a drinks. Restore alla sanity... Make the STRONG undead!”
“No. You’ll surrender now. You’re done.”
“Fff! Fach chant. Fact Hans. Fatch ants.”
“Good chance.” Thomasi glared at him, tugging on his gloves. “You were the one who insisted I flip my peavey pee switch, remember? I’ve still got a day left on that sucker.”
Vaffanculo’s head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. “Comband unbread, kill them hall!” he shouted, then paused in confusion.
But the blue-eyed wights got the idea, and crept in, readying to charge.
“Not a chance!” roared the Ringmaster, posing as he pointed at the mob of undead, now spreading out around them. “Welcome to the Greatest Show on Generica!”
A pause.
A rumble.
And then six small wagons turned into six very large circus wagons, harnessed to six very angry horses, that screamed and neighed as the church’s walls blew out, unable to contain the bulk of the things materializing in their space. Then Thomasi was hauling her up and around, diving for cover as the rest of the building collapsed, and stone and timber rained down on all below.
CHAPTER 23: AFTER THE FALL
Chase woke to warmth. Cuddly warmth. Fuzzy warmth.
Maybe a little too much warmth, as she felt sweat drip down her face. She sat up, dislodging a few furry, screeching things that skittered back into the firelight, and stared at her with wide eyes. They had tails and fur, and they chattered incoherent sounds.
Chase stared at the creatures. They stared back at her.
One of them offered a circus peanut, and she took it. Then she looked about, trying to figure out what had just happened.
She was sitting on the main street of Bothernot, that much was obvious. Up the road the inn burned still, releasing great plumes of smoke into the sky.
Behind her...
Behind her was a mass of wood and stucco, where the church had once stood. From it Thomasi emerged, dragging a human behind him.
“Vaffanculo!” Chase gasped, standing to her feet...
...and promptly falling over, as her head spun and ached.
Thomasi’s voice was wry. “Careful. That’s at least a concussion. You might want to heal yourself.”
“I...” Chase pulled her face up from the cobblestones. “Greta! And Renny!”
“Here!” Renny called as rubble shifted, and a human-sized tornado with eyes burst out, carrying both fox and halven with it. But Greta wasn’t moving, and Chase struggled to her hands and knees.
Unexpectedly, she found the furry creatures helping her up. For certain definitions of helping, anyway. They spent as much time swiping at each other and chattering as they did supporting her.
“She’s fine,” Renny said, as the tornado dropped them off at the edge of the street. “Once the church started coming down, I had my elemental cover her. And me too, for that matter.”
“The monkeys seem to have taken a liking to you,” Thomasi said, sitting down next to Chase and depositing Vaffanculo’s limp form to the side. Half of the furry creatures immediately abandoned her and swarmed over the Ringmaster. He reached into a pocket, pulled out a few more circus peanuts, and nodded absently as they vanished.
Chase handed him back the one she’d been given and stumbled over to Greta, hugging her sister tightly. Only when Greta belched in her ear and snored a thundering snore did Chase stop crying. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.
My goodness, the world is wobbly today, Chase thought. Oh. Right. The concussion.
“Lesser Healing.”
That put things mostly to rights. And with her brain no longer bruised came the realization that this part of things, at least, was over. The fight was done.
And with that realization came words. Words and power.
You are now a level 5 Archer!
DEX+3
PER+3
STR+3
You have learned the Demoralizing Shot skill!
Your Demoralizing Shot skill is now level 1!
You have learned the Far Shot skill!
Your Far Shot skill is now level 1!
You have learned the Razor Arrow skill!
Your Razor Arrow skill is now level 1!
You are now a level 7 Oracle!
CHA+3
LUCK+3
WIS+3
Active divergence detected and canceled.
Foresight is now accessible once more.
You are now a level 8 Oracle!
CHA+3
LUCK+3
WIS+3
You are now a level 6 Grifter!
CHA+3
DEX+3
LUCK+3
&nbs
p; With wisdom came clarity, and Chase’s common sense reasserted itself. There were a few things missing from the scene. “Your wagons?” she asked, looking over to the Ringmaster.
“I shrunk them back down again. Some probably got ruined.” He shrugged. “I can make more, so it’s not a big deal. I’m more annoyed that my horses are dead. And relieved that I never got around to finding an elephant to tame, to be honest. That would have been messy.”
“You’re a Tamer, too?”
Thomasi snapped his fingers, and the monkeys returned to him. He chk’d noises at them, then gestured to the rubble. They spread out and started moving bits of it, searching, searching.
“We need to uncover the entrance to the cellar,” Chase realized. “The others are still down there! And... the undead, too. This could get messy.”
“Not with my new elemental and levels,” Renny said, moving closer. “Go clean up!”
The tornado spun over, avoiding the monkeys, and started hurling chunks of timber and rocks about.
After the third one nearly hit Thomasi and the fourth one put a hole in the general store, they decided to relocate back a ways and tell the elemental to go a bit slower.
Midway down they uncovered a wight. Three lesser healings and a swarm of monkeys later, the battered and torn undead was an ex-wight.
“Normally they’re more badass than this,” Thomasi said, not bothering to stand. “But all of the ones he made here were using clowns as a base. There’s honestly not many good things wights can get out of the Clown job.”
“The ones we fought were scary enough for me, thanks. I’ve no desire to see more, uh, badbutt ones.”
“Badbutt?” Thomasi shot her a bemused look. “What are you, eight or something?”
“My mother doesn’t believe in swearing. I learned what soap tastes like at an early age.”
His mustaches twitched.
The elemental finished its work a few minutes later, with no further undead uncovered. Then Renny directed it over to the front of the church, shifting bits aside until Gadram’s body lay, withered and battered, to his sight. Solemnly the fox started stripping him of items, and Chase gladly offered up her pack for use to hold everything. The last thing in was his glowing soulstone, and Renny’s somber eyes followed it in, staring at the laces as Chase pulled them tight.
Big Trouble Page 28