He smiled and rose, indicating that I should come with him. But as I gained my feet, the doors to the temple opened, and she entered.
She looked straight at me, and again I got that sense of a smile.
"Can I help you?" Magnus asked. He didn't whisper this time and several heads turned to see what was happening.
The bounty hunter didn't say a word, but lifted one thin arm and pointed a gloved finger directly at me.
"There will be no violence here," Magnus said. "You are welcome to stay, but be warned. Those who do bring violence to this place have cause to regret it."
The bounty hunter still didn't answer. Instead, she reached over her shoulder and pulled out the crossbow from whatever weird place it lived in when she wasn't using it. She grabbed a quarrel, loaded it, and raised it to her shoulder.
Father Magnus didn’t move, except to shake his head sadly. I wanted to dive down and hide beneath the benches, but I was trusting in Magnus's faith.
The bounty hunter didn't pull the trigger. The end of the crossbow dipped slightly, then realigned with me. Her arms started to shake, the tremors continuing throughout her body. She let the weapon fall to her waist, lifted a hand and wiped her brow under her hat. Then, she snapped the crossbow back up, but still didn't pull the trigger. She growled, the first sound I heard from her other than the laugh when I hit her.
"There will be no violence here," Magnus said softly. "Leave this place, before the Good God loses his patience with you. Or, renounce your ways and stay. Begin a new life in the light of the Good God."
She slung the crossbow over her shoulder and pulled her sword from her belt, or wherever it was that she kept it. That proved to be too much. As soon as it was out, it glowed red almost instantly, and with a hiss she dropped it. It fell to the floor with a clang, and immediately returned to its normal steel-gray color.
She slowly reached down, keeping her gaze focused on us and grabbed her sword. It glowed again, and she jumped back from a heat that I could feel from several feet away.
"It appears that the Good God has spoken," Magnus said. "Again, I say to you. Leave this place and do not return. Or leave your old life behind, and stay, basking in the love and light of the Good God."
The bounty hunter snarled. I was hearing her make all sorts of new sounds today, but none of them were speech. Then, she turned, slammed through the doors, and was gone.
I sagged, relieved that my belief in the power of Father Magnus's faith was not in vain. But we still hadn't solved my problem.
"Come," Magnus said, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
We prayed together, but there was no answer. The Good God may have helped me not become target practice for the bounty hunter, but he wasn't giving out free advice on how to turn me back into a human, either.
"I'm sorry, Duke," Magnus said. "Sometimes he wants us to figure out the answers to our problems by ourselves."
I thanked him anyway and stood to take my leave.
But as I passed, a young woman stood up from one of the benches. For a moment, I was sure that this was some new attack, but instead she was illuminated with a light from above with no source. She closed her eyes, her body going rigid. She opened her mouth and spoke, but the voice was strange, changing from male to female, from young to old, and in various accents.
“What seems a curse can be a blessing. Patience is its own reward. The answer has already been shown. Retrace your path to regain your true form, and know that blessings can be shared. What seems a blessing can be a curse.”
The young woman stopped talking and opened her eyes as the light that illuminated her faded.
“Hello, Father,” she said brightly, unfazed by her experience. “Were you saying something?”
“No, Mary. It was nothing. How do you feel?”
“Really good! Better than I have in a long time, as a matter of fact. Thank you!”
She beamed at us as she moved past and walked from the temple, a definite spring in her step. Father Magnus watched her go with a bemused expression.
“Well,” he said, “it appears that you’re in the Good God’s good graces today. Did that mean anything to you?”
“I’m not sure. But maybe.”
“The let the Good God go with you in your travels, Duke. And don’t be a stranger.”
He shook my hand and walked off, heading to another lost sheep in his flock that needed tending to.
On my way out, I picked up the bounty hunter’s sword. It was long, with a slight curve to it, and only sharp on one edge. Different than any others I’d seen, but a fine weapon nevertheless, and it didn’t glow red or feel warm in the slightest.
Outside, I paused at the top of the steps. I saw no sign of the bounty hunter, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t around. My disguise was useless and would now only slow me down if she came for me, so I got rid of it and took my chances walking down the street in all my orcish glory.
That was….unexpected, the voice in my head said.
“Mm? What’s that?” I was trying to spot the bounty hunter before she could take a shot at me.
Inside. What happened. Never felt anything like that before.
“Yeah,” I responded. “Father Magnus has that effect on a lot of people.”
And the Good God had spoken to me. I wasn’t ready to throw away years of perfectly good non-temple going, but I admitted to a certain amount of awe. It’s not every day that an actual god takes notice of you. I wasn’t a fool, or flattering myself. The god did it because the worthiest servant that anyone could ask for prayed for it. But the end result was the same for me. I had a path forward, if I was smart enough to figure it out.
I looked down at the sword in my hands. It really was an exquisite weapon, and one that was starting to attract attention. Weapons were common in Capital City, and even the most wizened old granny was usually armed with something. But most didn’t walk around carrying them out in the open. They were kept in sheathes, pockets, or belt loops. Oh, ogres and trolls sometimes carried clubs openly, but no one really worried about that. They didn’t need a club to pound you into jelly, and somehow, it was fitting for them to have one.
But what to do with this? I could head for home, hope I made it without being challenged for ownership of it, either by the bounty hunter, or someone else who thought it was pretty and wanted to have it. A long-shot at best.
I could head for the watchhouse, turn it in and explain to Sarge where I got it. From there, it would either end up in storage somewhere, or else adorning the belt of some Watch Commander. I didn’t like that idea either.
A sword like this was made to be used, and cherished.
I raised it up so that I could see it better. The metal gleamed, and I could see unfamiliar writing etched into it, but faintly, as if it was actually inside the blade rather than on the surface. My fingers confirmed this when I ran them over the writing. The sword was silky smooth, with no indentations.
It was mirror bright, which was nice when it showed me the bounty hunter sneaking up behind me, that gleam coming from under her hat.
“Hah!” I spun around, shouting at the same time, and had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch back. She didn’t expect me to see her there, and I took her by surprise.
“Better stay back,” I said. I held the sword out and acted as if I would dash it against the cobblestones. “It might take a few hits, but I bet I can damage it pretty badly before you can get to me.”
I walked backward, putting more distance between us, and heading closer to the side of the road.
“That’s right. Good little bounty hunter. You and me, we have a date later on. But not right now.”
She stood motionless watching me from under that wide hat. Her whole body was tense and her hands opened and closed.
“Now, I’m going away, and you’re not going to follow me. I mean, I guess you could, but then you’d lose this.”
The opening to the sewer wasn’t as big as the one I wen
t down several days ago, but it was big enough. Big enough for a sword and big enough for a thin woman, no matter how tall, to squeeze through.
I bent down and threw the sword into the sewer. The bounty hunter gasped and came on at a run. But I was already up and moving. I took off as fast as my orc legs could carry me, heading back to Flatiron Street. I finally figured out what the Good God was telling me. At least part of it.
I looked back as I ran, and sure enough, the bounty hunter was squeezing into the opening to the sewer. Good. Let her fight the lizard men for the sword. By the time she even found it, I’d be long gone.
I was going to get messy again. But if I was right, this time it would be worth it.
The potion wasn’t wearing off. It was the goop from that vat I had hidden in. It seemed a curse at first, but turned out to be a blessing, if I was only patient enough. Thus, I was retracing my steps to regain my form. I still didn’t know what the rest of the message meant, but I’d figure that out too.
For the first time in the last few days, I felt pretty optimistic.
The stuff in the vat didn’t smell any better. It was still a nasty, viscous goo that clung to the sides of its container. If anything, it was thicker and smelled worse. Now that I wasn’t running for my life, it was a much harder task to make myself climb in there. I started to twice, and both times fell back gagging.
What if I was wrong and this wasn’t what the Good God meant? Maybe it was something I wasn’t thinking of? It could mean that Dr. Visage was back in the shop where I met him, and this potion was going to make a lot of money for both of us! That was possible. Although, the Good God didn’t seem like the type that would make riches a priority.
I grimaced and pulled myself up the side of the vat again. This was what he meant. I had no doubt.
I held my breath, swung my legs over the side and dropped. The vat was deep, with sides that sloped down toward the bottom. The liquid made it slippery and I went under immediately. Gasping and sputtering, I resurfaced, fighting to stop myself from retching.
It was amazing how many things I was noticing now that I wasn’t in fear for my life. And how much worse it all seemed.
I reached up and hung onto the side of the vat, but realized that I couldn’t do that. The last thing I wanted was to turn back to human, but still have one orc arm.
I took a breath, held it, and let myself go under. The nasty stuff closed above my head and seemed to push me toward the bottom. What if I couldn’t come back up? What if the goop was too thick?
My arms flailed and I kicked hard, breaking the surface.
“Stop being a wimp,” I told myself.
I almost wished the voice would come back. Maybe it would drown out my own voice. Speaking of drowning…
It was a long day. I was determined to stay in the goop for as long as I could, submerging and coming up for air when I needed to. I floated when tired, and tread, well, not water, but whatever this was, the rest of the time. I stayed in it all day and into the night.
Finally, when the moon rose over the city, I was exhausted. I pulled myself up and out of the vat, collapsing to the floor of the abandoned factory. I was too tired to do anything more, so I lay there and stank. I needed a few minutes to relax and then I’d get up and go home.
Of course, I fell asleep. I think even I saw that one coming but didn’t really care. I didn’t stay sleeping for long anyway. Within a couple of hours, I was awakened all over again by the cramps and pain. It was even worse this time, if that was possible.
I grabbed hold of my sanity and refused to let go. This will pass, I told myself, ride it out. Eventually, it did, and I was me again.
Wearily, I climbed to my feet, still stinking of the goop and wearing clothes that were too broad in the chest and shoulders, way too long in the arms and too short in the legs. The boots flopped on my feet as I took my first steps.
I never looked so good in my entire life.
I was ready to go home, get clean one more time, rest up and then go out on the hunt. Turn the tables and let the tall woman in black learn how it felt.
I pondered the rest of what the Good God had said while I tried to scrape some of the goo off me with an old piece of scrap metal. Now that I was human again, and certain that I was staying that way, I was thinking more clearly.
I grabbed a couple of old containers, used for who-knew-what back when this place was operating. They were solid enough, so I dipped one into the vat. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it yet, but it seemed like a good idea.
I got a lot of stares and people moving aside hastily as I made my way home. Once there, I treated my neighbors to what I swore was going to be my last show, went inside and did exactly what I said I was going to.
I slept the sleep of the dead. I never woke up once and when I finally cracked open my eyes, it was a new day, and I was still myself.
Good. Now you can get to the watchhouse tomorrow.
It was useless to argue with the voice. Tomorrow it might have plans for me, whatever that meant, but today was mine. Today, I was going hunting.
I ate well, drank three cups of coffee, enjoying drinking every sip without maneuvering the cup around jutting fangs, and dressed in my best Nuisance Man clothes. I strapped on my sword, leaving my new axe in the corner.
Crossing the street to the alley, I left the container of goop behind a pile of trash. An idea occurred to me while I lingered over my breakfast that morning.
She was hard to find, but eventually I did. She was staking out the Horn of the Unicorn, the same way that Lara told her goons to do. The bounty hunter was smarter, though. She wasn’t simply standing on the street staring at the place. She was on the rooftop of the building across from it, watching the entrance.
I saw her as I made my own way across the roofs, smug in my assurance that I would spot here from on high before she ever saw me.
I hated to think that hers was a mind like mine, but the evidence was clear. I thought about simply trying to sneak up on her and pushing her over the edge, but I didn’t. For one, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of doing that. I was sneaky at times, but that was a whole other level of stealth.
And two, I wanted to know. When I was an orc, I was sure that if I fought her in my own body, I could beat her. I watched how she fought, how she moved and used her weapons. But now, I wasn’t so certain.
She was formidable. She still stood several inches taller than me, and her every movement spoke of a grace and economy of motion that I’d have a hard time matching. And there were those hidden weapons. Even now, I couldn’t see a single sign of a crossbow, knives, or that sword. Who knew what else she had?
No, I wasn’t sure that I could beat her. But I was going to find out.
I cleared my throat, and this time, she didn’t startle. She calmly turned from her post and looked at me over her shoulder.
“Want another shot?” I said.
She didn’t respond, but she did turn completely around. She stared at me for a moment, then spread her hands to the sides and shrugged.
“Oh, that’s right. Last time we met, I didn’t look like this. I’m sure you’ll remember, though. Did you enjoy your swim?”
She lowered her hands and I saw the glint from the shadows under her hat.
“How about your sword? Find it?”
She drew it from the invisible sheath, gleaming and sharp. Yeah, she found it.
“Thought you might have.” I drew my own sword. “Well, come on then. You can either explain to Oleg how you completed the bounty, or maybe I’ll send him your head.”
Usually, I didn’t bother taunting my opponents. It was bush league stuff. But in this case, against a filthy bounty hunter, I was fine with it.
She snarled and moved forward. No rushing this time, she came on slowly, gliding across the rooftop, sword at the ready.
I took a defensive stance and let her come. Her first blow almost took my sword right out of my hands as I tried to deflect it. In the o
rc body, she didn’t seem as strong as she truly was.
I used every trick I knew and then some. We dueled for a good long while, moving back and forth across that rooftop, leaping to another, and then yet another. I have to admit, it was me doing the leaping, trying to put a little distance between us and catch a breath.
She was damn good. But so was I. Her sword weaved intricate patterns in the air, but I stayed focused and parried every blow. Unfortunately, she did the same to mine. It was becoming apparent that the winner was only going to be determined by whoever tired first.
I was breathing pretty heavily and wasn’t confident that that wouldn’t be me.
After I stopped a particularly fast flurry of blows, she growled and stepped back. I lowered my sword also, thinking that she was taking a break. Instead, her hand flashed to her belt, then back up, releasing the knife she pulled.
It got me in the arm, but luckily it wasn’t my sword arm. Still, it hurt like hell.
I yelped and spun out of the way as the other one flashed past. I grabbed my arm, intending to pull the knife free and send it back to her. But there was nothing there. No knife in my arm, and when I glanced, no knife on the rooftop behind me either.
Ah. More magic. Great.
They were both back in her hand, where she held them by their points. When she made to throw again, I decided that it was time to level the playing field. I spun and jumped over the edge of the roof, descending as quickly as I could. I hit the alley hard, and dodged to the side as a knife hit where I stood a second ago.
My arm hurt and was bleeding pretty badly, but there was no time to worry about it. I took off running, and looked back to see her following my own route down the side of the building, landing much more gracefully than I.
She came on fast and I put on as much speed as I could. I wanted to stay slightly ahead of her, enough so that I could do what I needed to, but close enough that she’d keep me in sight. It turned out that I didn’t have the choice, she was staying right with me.
Luckily, we were still in my neighborhood, and within minutes I was on my own street. I pounded down it, and skidded into the alley.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 78