by T Hodden
I saw the sword that Ryda had dropped skidding across the floor towards me. I kicked it up and ran at the demon. He looked at me with something like a smile on his animal face as I swept out with the sword, striking the Bane Sword away. He smacked his elbow into my face, breaking my nose with out drawing breath and he was about to give me shove before being driven back half a step by Wendy trying her hardest to land a blow from her flaming torch. With a swipe of his hand he smashed the torch to embers and kicked her away such force she knocked the rest of the gang to the floor like a bowling bowl scoring a strike.
It brought me the moment I needed to bring my borrowed blade down on his wrist. He reared up, screaming with pain as his sword hit the floor, jolted from his grip. He caught my sword with his other hand and tore it from my fingers. He threw it away and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me to the floor.
“Oh, and there I was thinking we were going to be such good friends.” Amduscias laughed evilly. He grabbed his sword and crushed the pommel into the palm of my hand. A wound opened as the sword slurped up my blood. “Oh yes. My useful little friend. A drop of your blood gave Bane enough energy to answer my call.” He smiled. “Don't worry, you will live to see everything I do with this once it is charged up and-” The demon stopped and looked at Ginger, his eyes widening at the terrifying weapon the little bear was thrusting towards the demon.
“What is that?” Uriel asked, trying to sit himself up, his eyes unfocused in a wounded haze.
“Flaming Pitchfork.” Ginger said proudly. “With actual pitch.” He thrust forwards catching Amduscias in the shoulder and driving the demon to loosen his grip on me. “For cleansing. With fire.”
Amduscias grabbed at the pitchfork, trying to swat the flames away. I seized my chance without thinking. I grabbed at the hilt of the Bane Sword, twisting the blade towards Amduscias. He thrashed at me with claws, but I closed my hands, felt the ice cold pain that filled my lungs burn inside of me, and I pushed my whole weight on the sword. Until I felt the blade plunging into the heart of the monster.
I let it go and stepped back. I had not thought before, but I thought now. “God help me.” I whispered as I saw the way that the demon thrashed and wrestled with the sword stuck inside of his chest. “Get him into the cell before he gets free.” I said, unsure who to. I could not move myself horror filled me.
“God isn't here.” Uriel snarled, standing. “But I will gladly help on his behalf.” He reclaimed his dropped sword and span it in his hand, lashing out at the monster with a single deadly blow. It ended the life of the demon with a flash. He looked at me. “A mercy I think.” He nodded at me, there was a smile on his face as he knelt beside Ryda. “Damn. I thought you were in time. I thought you had saved us both.”
“I killed him.” I said, feeling myself shaking.
Uriel nodded. “You fought. For your own life and those of your friends. And for mine, for which I thank you.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “You did a good thing.”
The bears were looking away. “No. I did... I should have found another way. He...” One by one I felt the bears draw close. The put their paws on my hand. For the first time I realised how badly battered and bruised the demon had left them. “I am sorry.”
“It bodes well for your soul that you would think that way.” Uriel smiled. “Your part here is done.”
“No.” I shook my head. “There is a murder unsolved.”
“Your duty was to be an advocate for the accused.” Tiger said. “And I think he has put himself beyond the need for that now.”
“But what about Heavens Edge then?” Gwyn asked, wrapping his arm in a sleeve.
“That is to be decided.” Uriel looked at his fallen brother. “He would appreciate your valiant attempt at a rescue. Sir Knight?”
“Just Fish.” I said. “My descendant was a knight, but I am just a mister.”
“A knight of an order founded on the wisdom of one of my own.” Uriel said. “Ryda knew about such things. They were important to him.” The words were sad. “He will be very sorely missed.”
“Just a shame this doesn't count as a miracle really.” Tiger said under her breath. That earned her a look from Uriel that I could not begin to understand.
“Your chances will come.” He promised in a whisper.
*
Val Liberty stepped out of the diner and took his hat off to wipe at the sweat with a handkerchief he kept in the pocket of his light coloured slacks. He stared at the hired car that had parked across the road and the huddle of bears that were stepping out of it. My father and Doreen climbed from the front of the car. Val felt a smile pulling at his lips.
“Well, this is an unexpected, but very welcome, turn of events. To what do we owe your return Miss Grey?” Val narrowed his eyes. “And where is your husband?”
“Fish is... Still...” Doreen waved her hands vaguely. “We think trouble is coming this way.”
“What sort of trouble?” Val asked.
“The kind that kills people.” Dad muttered.
“And why does it want to spend the festive season here?” Val seemed a little confused.
“I don't why. But I feel it. Something... Something stretching back to the past is going to draw it here. And truth be told, I would rather come here and be proven wrong than stay at home and do nothing.” Doreen held out the battered copy of the old story book. “Please. Would you mind just looking at this and telling me if it rings any kind of a bell with you?”
“What is this?” Val gave her a kindly smile.
“It was what Fish would have been reading to a grave stone if he didn't get called away for Christmas.” Doreen said. “A coincidence big enough to drag him halfway around the world.”
“And it has a connection to our past.” Dad explained. “To a murderer called Orbas. Of a cult.”
“Orbas?” Val looked worried. “And you think he might be on his way here? Well, golly, that is just about as bad news as I could have.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Demons know cultists. They are kind of a threat to our peaceful anonymity.”
Dad nodded. “I think I see.”
“Well, you had best come with me then.” Val waved them towards the Sheriffs Office. “And you can tell me all about it.”
*
I was happy to be away from Hell, but I was not yet home. I was however somewhere more familiar. I was in the Other World. I was in the palace of the Grey King, in a courtyard with dappled moonlight and vines that bloomed ivory white and were scented like honey. There were seemingly endless tables, each with game boards almost like chess sets. The Grey King, in his crumpled clothes was fluttering between them, moving armies and spies with every pushing of a piece. The opposing pieces were shifting themselves around the boards, reacting to changes on untold worlds, in countless lives and scores of destinies.
He paused to look at me and his face lit up as he saw the bears. He dug in his pockets for a bag of sweets. He pretended not to notice Sylas. I do not think he had ever been close to his heir apparent.
“So, you wish to take a leave of absence? To run away from my interest in you?” He asked, tutting as he moved another piece on a new board and was unimpressed by how the game reacted. “For personal reasons?”
“I am dying.” I said.
“I know.” He assured me, but there was a note of iron to his voice.
“And this keeps following me.” I turned to look at the Bane Sword. It was hovering at head height ten or fifteen meters behind me, making angry and hungry noises. It had started hovering around as soon as Uriel had plucked it from the chest of the dead Amduscias.
“I can not allow Doreen to pay for my sins. She deserves Ever After more than anybody else I know.” I said quietly. “And the only way to stop that...”
“Is to settle your debts before the Taxman cometh?” The Grey King helped himself to a sherbet lemon from his paper bag. He threw it in the air and caught it in his mouth with a flourish. “Did you really think you needed to ask?”
“I... Don't know how to do this.” I said. “Please. Is there a way I have to declare my challenge? To do the right thing?”
“Come look at this board.” The Grey King called as he strode around the courtyard trying to find one of his many games. He smiled with recognition. “Ah. Here we are. America. I always like America. So many interesting people. And so many ways to die.” He pointed at the board. Beneath the cheque pattern was a map. It was familiar.
“Is that Heavens Edge?” I asked.
He nodded. “And here is fair Doreen Grey, whose name I heartily condone by the way. Your father. Some of our little friends from the woods. And oh dear.” He added a hint of vinegar to that simple phrase. “It appears there is a mystery here to be discovered. Would you be interested in discovering who killed poor Lord Scratch and who arranged for Amduscias to removed so permanently from the board?”
“When I have secured Doreen’s future. If I have time before...” I did not finish the sentence.
“I was thinking more along the lines of how many birds you might hit with one stone.” The Grey King said. “Because how many feats of daring do are required to cleanse your slate and move your ledger to the black?”
“Six.” Ted said brightly, counting on his fingers to be sure.
“Ah, well, almost there.” The Grey King pointed to a number of pieces on the edge of the board. “One, two, three, four, five very real, dangers to the poor population of that small town. What ever dark and nasty secret that Amduscias had buried there, what ever was worth this game of politics and death, must be very valuable. Given five very dangerous souls are gathering on the horizon.”
“Why is Doreen there?” I asked, aghast.
“Saving her would be a nice sixth miracle don't you think?” The Grey King crossed his arms. “Whoever challenges me to this particular game is somewhat desperate for you to be there Fisher. If your intentions are true, they are offering you an invitation.” He paused. “If you do not wish to do this I will send other agents. I will see your friend and your father safe.”
“On the other hand,” Tiger said, “if you want to go be Sheriff you know you have some deputies.”
“Aye.” Wendy agreed. “I don't think I can spend another Crimbo with the telly.”
“They do have some rather nice cars in America don't they?” Gwyn said.
Ginger was cackling and stroking the ignition mechanism to his Flaming Pitchfork.
“Well then.” I put my hands in my pockets. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Oh there is a lot here I do not understand yet.” The Grey King seethed. “But I intend to.”
“Excellent.” Sylas clapped his hands. “Well, good travels and god speed. Just don't ask which god.” His nasty little sneer fell from his lips. He saw the way his father was piercing his soul with a cold gaze. “Oh.” Sylas mumbled. “I get another little outing?”
Gwyn patted him happily on the knee. “More the merrier!” The bear said cheerfully.
“So, er, pitchforks are pretty much a universal constant.” Ginger said. “But I can not help but feel that if we are going West, we need some sort of hat to protect against the sun. With a nice wide brim, white material that never gets dusty...” He grinned. “Can we make one little stop?”
“You are not getting six shooters.” I said, holding my hands up. “Or guns.”
“Awwww.” Said the bears.
“But we are the good guys.” Ted said. “Tradition dictates that we really need white hats.”
“And a lasso.” Grey King said thoughtfully. “What is a cowboy with out a rope trick?”
“Okay.” I nodded. Look, I know exactly how much trouble a rope can get you in, especially with in the paws of a bear. But it was that or guns, and I chose the one with the least potential to break the world apart. After all, dad could teach them how to tie the knot and work a few of the tricks. It could keep them out of trouble. I turned to look away, but Wendy was there. She smiled up at me.
“You know, you are going to have to tell Doreen soon?” She asked.
I nodded.
“Very soon.” Grey King whispered. The black pieces on his game board were shifting, drifting towards the the edge of the town.
“So how do I get there?” I asked.
“I will open us a door.” Sylas growled.
*
“I am sorry to say it sounds very much like you are right.” Val said. He was sat behind his desk, his hiking boots on the mess of paper work, a mug of filter coffee in his hands. “Well, I sure am worried about what you have told me.”
“I am right?” Doreen asked.
“This Orbas is coming to Heavens Edge.” Val sighed. “Seems he is intent on finding it.”
“The town?” Dad asked.
Val shook his head.
“The edge of heaven? Like the place?” Polly mused.
“Like... A blade?” Doreen sat up. “There is a weapon here? That is why Amduscias...”
“The Skein.” Val said. He seemed to expect that to explain everything. “Oh. Well. That is to say that there was a weapon that could kill peoples, entire blood lines, populations, those with the same belief, entire peoples, called the Skein. It killed them in the exact same way as your poor wife suffered.” He met Dad's gaze. “And if I wanted to bring around doomsday I would think it was a pretty good start.”
“And you have it here?” Mac asked.
Val shook his head. “It was brought here after the war in heaven. Hidden away in a dusty corner of a lonely continent where few would ever come to look for it. When we escaped from Hell we built our town here not knowing why we were drawn to this well, this brook, this place. Eventually we found the blade and... Well... It was hidden by my great, great, grandfather. He never told anybody the secret. It was safer that way we thought. Safer it remained lost.”
“And that is what Amduscias had over you?” Doreen asked. “If you ever stopped being his slaves he would tell somebody what was here?”
“No.” Val sighed. “He would go back to where he hid it and use it. First on us, then the world.” He shook his head. “We guarded if for him. Because what made everything worse was we had to do what was right and he still won.”
“Amduscias was...” Dad shook his head.
“So the Orbas knows. How?” Doreen asked, then realised nobody in the room could answer. “And they will be coming here? For a weapon that could destroy... Everything?”
“Yes.” Val smiled. “So, er, if you happen to know anybody who might be able to help, I would be mighty grateful. I have to admit, I never had to do much in the way of policing here. People in town are good souls. I never even loaded the gun that I meant to carry.”
“You need a deputy?” Doreen asked.
“Anybody else here that?” Mac said from the window. “There seems to be an awfully noisy cloud of dust on the horizon.”
“Wait here.” Doreen said to the bears as she stood and adjusted her skirts. She tried to give them a confident smile as she stepped out into the cool evening air. She walked out into the middle of the road, where the neon colours of the diner flashed and pulsed over the dust. She stood tall and looked towards the dust cloud closing in on the town.
“Okay.” Doreen said to herself. “They already killed me. What is the worse they can do?”
“Probably best not to ask.” Val Liberty said to her from the doorway. He had put a cream coloured cowboy hat on his head, had hung his badge from a chain around his neck and was tightening a gun belt with a holster over his hips. “Maybe you don't want to do this.”
I stepped from the shadows, my entourage of bears at my heals, in white hats, Gwyn and Wendy riding hobby horses, and Ginger holding his flaming pitchfork.
“Fish?” Doreen grinned as she spoke, her whole face lighting up. “Where did you come from?”
“You guys keep back.” I said. “I want to see if we can avoid this being some kind of showdown.”
“Oh I think is them telling us how
long we have until a showdown.” Val said. “They are after a weapon called a Skein and they will want us to hand it over.” I was aware of more bears in the office. They ignored the suggestion to stay where they were and ambled out to compare notes with my entourage. They were fascinated by the sword hovering at shoulder height behind me. Val stared at it. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Lots.” I said. “But I want to make sure you are all safe first.” I walked in the direction of the dust clouds. Four horses were drawing near. The one at the front was ridden by Orbas. He was a long featured man whose long time laying in hospital had left him with gaunt, skeletal look. He was dressed in black fatigues. He had around his neck a bag that shifted and wormed. It filled me with dread, because I knew what it contained: Spiders. A swarm as spiders as small as money spiders but deadly. His clothes were plain. The kind of cheap clothes you can buy in a super market. He stared at me down his nose, but I do not know if he recognised me.
To his left was Ankh. She was hairless and golden, her skin covered in jet black symbols and spells, on her hairless scalp was the icon whose name she had adopted. She wore dark coloured military clothes. Her reputation was for hand to hand combat. She was generally considered the deadliest thing on two legs. On the left flank was Lupine, a bulky hairy man who could probably run as fast as any horse or wrestle grizzly bears. He wore earth tones and a leather jacket. His mouth had too many teeth in it. His left leg was replaced by a wooden stump, like a pirate, his left hand by a sharp hook. He was the deadliest thing on one leg. To the right Orbas was Grace. A woman with mocha skin and raven hair who had a willowy body with the compact but powerful muscles of a dancer, and the flexibility of a rag doll.
I stared at Orbas. He toyed his bag of spiders.
I was screaming and screaming, unable to move, staring at my mother. She was dead. I could tell that much, the light behind her eyes had gone out and her breath had stopped misting on the chrome coloured bed frame. A shadow, no a spider, so tiny it may have been a fleck of dust dropped from her nose. It scurried across the bedsheets and past the nurses answering my screams.