by T Hodden
That felt incredible by the way. Even if the impact jarred my hand.
Her gun clicked dead as the horsemen mounted up and started to charge at me. Whatever cult Orbas had once ran, I bet it was heavy on the End-Times message. The hooves thundered as the horses were spurred into a charge. I pointed the sword at the ground and waited. The were a hundred meters away. Fifty. Twenty. Ten. And in an instant Doreen materialised before them, her arms held out screaming a wordless shriek.
The horses reared up and bolted, losing their riders. Unfortunately the bunch were pretty nimble and managed to land on their feet. Lupine was the closest to me and soon as he landed in a feline crouch he ran forwards as fast as a freight train and with just as much power. He lashed out at me with his hook and it whistled as it cut through the air. I kicked up a stone and launched it at him with a pretty good penalty shot, pretending his head was the corner of the net. He swatted it aside with the hook, the barbed edge cutting through it. It was a fine demonstration of his deadly prowess, but an even better distraction. His hook sailed past where my head would have been before he could see I was rolling low and lashing out with the sword.
His peg leg was sliced clean off, leaving less than a fingers breadth of wood. He pitched over and thudded onto the floor face first, I brought the sword down and relieved him of the hook. Before I had finished I heard the breach of a shotgun being snapped closed. In the corner of my eyes I saw Grace on her knees, drawing a bead on my back.
Smart thinking. I could parry a bullet, maybe not a cloud of shot. There was a whoop from the circle of bears as a grapple line lashed out from behind the horsemen, cracking like a whip as it wrapped three times around the barrel of the shotgun and hoisted it sharply from Grace's grip with such force the butt knocked her for six and cost her a tooth.
Ankh was cartwheeling at me, landing on her toes and flexing herself into a martial stance as she span into an overhead kick. I met it with the flat of the blade, parrying the blow, but even so it had enough force to lift me clean from my feet and send a few yards back. I landed awkwardly and part of me, or maybe the sword, knew that if I had parried her with the edge of the blade I would have killed her by now. She was about to punch my head clean off when Doreen appeared. Ankh adjusted and lashed out at her, losing her footing as her fist sailed through the insubstantial ghost with no resistance. She found her balance and turned as I stood and raised the blade so the tip of the sword touched her throat.
“How bad do you want the Skein?” I asked.
“That is not the blade we seek.” She answered.
“No.” Damn, I was hoping they would have fallen for that. “But you want the Skein bad enough to know what a Bane Sword feels like.”
“Only demons carry those.” She hissed. Her spells glowing.
“Spoils of war.” I said.
“You are not Rodderick Heller.” Orbas said with venom as he loomed at me. “I never killed a woman called Heller. So you do not have the Skein.”
Ankh rolled her eyes at me in a way that seemed to say, 'he isn't slow, he just likes to have the last word.'
“Is he really worthy of your loyalty?” I asked. “Those spells talk of a code of honour. Justified Death, not murder. Orbas is not interested in Justice.”
“Orbas did not pay me.” Ankh admitted. “You could have killed me. Why are we talking?”
“Why would I kill you if I did not need to?” I asked evenly. “I offered you a chance to walk away. I will not offer you a third chance.”
“I am sorry.” She said. “But Death herself wishes what my employer wishes. When he wields the Skein many will die and she will sing of their passing with a voice full of glory.”
“Death will have to learn to accept that wanting and having are different beasts.” I said, with a wink. “Sorry.”
She drew back her lips to bare her pointed teeth at me. She flexed her fingers like a magician performing a card trick and a short blade like the sting of a wasp filled her fingers. She stepped back from my sword and kicked my wrist to send the blade away from her throat so hard I think I heard the bone snap. The blade lashed out and stupidly I reached up to defend myself with my free hand. The blade punched through the flat of my hand, but it stopped the blade ripping my throat.
I can not begin to describe the pain. She tried to pull the blade free of my hand, but somehow, despite the blinding pain I pulled her off balance and as she crashed towards me. I stepped out the way and let the bull rushing Ankh brush past me, which made me feel lime a bull fighter. I pulled the sting knife from my hand and threw it at her. She caught it easily between the flats of her hands, which left her exposed. I let go of the sword and wheeled on her and gave her a hefty kick. She pitched forwards, so I let go of the sword.
It hovered just touching the back of her neck.
“I would stay down if I were you.” Doreen whispered from the shadows and dust. “The sword is not as forgiving as Fish.”
Orbas was picking himself up from the dust. He reached up for his bag.
“Yeah.” I said with a smile. “Go for your drawstring.”
“No sword to protect you.” He said, letting the bag fall into his hand. He was about to throw them all at me.
“I wouldn't.” I said warningly. “Can't you feel the magic?”
“You can't make them any less hungry. Any less deadly.” He smirked. “Your mother was with you in the hospital when they found her, wasn't she? Terrified that if she left your side I would take you instead...”
“The magic does not just contain them.” I said.
“Kill him slow my precious, then feed on the ghost.” Orbas whispered to the bag.
“It loosens the control you hold over them.” Doreen said. “The last time that happened, you were in hospital for how long?”
I lay in the hospital bed staring at the small spider that had crawled from my mothers body.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would you want to kill?” It stared back at me. “Do you want to kill?”
It turned and scuttled away. I screamed.
“They would not dare try to betray me again.” He spat. “My will clung to life as they consumed my soul. They left one thread of me in my body, to imprison me, so I could be punished. But that thread was strong. That thread allowed me to be reborn.”
“And who was it that wove you back to yourself.” I asked as he stood frozen, spiders in hand. “It is not an easy feat, believe me.” I looked over at Doreen and caught her smile. “Somebody must really want you to have that Skein.”
“No.” Orbas squawked at his bag. “Do not tell him. Do not ruin this. I will not tell him.” He shifted uneasily on his feet as the mouth of the bag opened and a swarm of black dots crawled over his hands and up his sleeve. They soon emerged from his collar, over his face. “No! I command you! You do not command me! You do not-” He fell to his knees, his face a mask of terror. “No! I don't know who he was. I woke up one day and he was there, in my room, telling me that he would bring me back the Swarm, that he would bring me back everything, as long as I came here, for the Skein. That I would use it! How could I refuse? Weeks later, so many weeks later, when I was mad with the thought I saw him again, and he knew I would say yes. He took the one thread of me that was left and spoke my true name. He made me whole.”
“Who was he?” I asked.
“I do not know.” Orbas chuckled. “It does not matter. Come to Heavens Edge, find Rodderick Heller and find the damned blade. When it was in my hand what would it matter if...”
“If you have been used?” I asked.
He glowered at me. “I am in control.” He hissed.
“Are you?” I asked. “I do not think the Swarm will kill you.” I said. “But here, they are free of your control.” I turned away. “I think you should make your peace with them.”
“You can not leave me here.” Orbas begged. “Please. The Swarm are free. I... I beg you show mercy.”
“If you leave him, I will put him in jail. Here in town. U
ntil this is over. You can go back where ever you were meant to be.” I said as kindly as I could to creepy crawlies. “Please. I would appreciate it.”
The spiders left the terrified old man and scuttled away.
“I will lower the circle when he is far enough away not to regain control.” I promised the creatures. “Please don't eat the bears.”
Doreen flashed away and came walking back from the edge of the circle with some bears who were all too eager to use their ropes. It did not take long to tie up our prisoners and march them towards the town jail. Val should have arranged his precautions on the cells by now.
“And no death.” I said to the happy little sword bobbing beside me. “Holding up okay? You don't need any more blood?”
It seemed happy enough, full enough of life.
Ginger started to whistle the theme to his favourite Western as we walked back to town. I passed the time by trying to remember why Rodderick Heller was ringing a bell in my head. I tried to distract myself with a fond memory, that of my favourite book.
The answer was waiting for me on page sixteen, even in my memory.
*
“I don't know who hired us.” Lupine growled in his holding cell. “He wore a mask and his voice was disguised.”
“What kind of mask?” Ted asked sat on a small stall, between myself and Val. He had a notebook on his lap. I wondered if the prisoners, each in their own cell, would be anywhere near as intimidated if they knew the notes being scribbled were doodles.
“He or she seemed to have every kind of face.” Ankh said. “Every kind of skin, every kind of hair, every kind build. They were always a little out of focus and as you looked at them, and each time you glanced at him, blinked, or lost concentration he would look different.”
“He was veiled in darkest magic, provided by the Great Old Ones.” Orbas whispered.
“Well that does not sound good.” Sylas looked at us despairingly. “This mysterious patron of theirs could be standing in this room and we would never know who if they have Glamour Masks.” A thought occurred to him. “Why is it always mysterious forces shoving you around Fish? Last time you crossed paths with that Demon I lost my Angel of Death!”
“Well now that sounds like you live a far too eventful life.” Val said.
“Who is Rodderick Heller?” I asked.
“He is in this town.” Orbas growled. “He has the Skein and he will give it to us.”
“Mister Liberty?” Ted asked, looking at the Sheriff over the top of his glasses.
“Nobody using that name ever used that name here.” Liberty smiled. “I should know. I knew everybody who passed through here. I remember everybody who lived here. I know them, their children, their favourite colours and what they order from the diner. I know from the cradle to the grave.”
Dad stepped into the custody suite. He had lingered back because he was scared. Scared of what he might do now Orbas was caged. He walked to me and gave me a look. There was so much fury behind his eyes that I had never seen before. I had seen it in myself once, when Doreen was ripped from me.
“You know somebody who was born here?” Orbas asked quietly. “Even if she never told anybody. Do you know them when they walk away from here? Go travelling.” He added weight to his words. “Adopt new names and forged identities.”
Dad stiffened.
“Like Birch.” Orbas whispered. “She adopted that name right? Last time I found her?”
“Mum?” I looked at Dad. “Mum was born here?”
“I never asked where she was born.” Dad said. “I knew she was running from her past. When I met her she was at University, calling herself Birch and adopting a mid-Atlantic accent. She was also, by-the-by, being chased by Gnomes. But her name did not matter. Her real birthplace did not matter. I got to look in her heart and know her.” He grinned, for a second the memory of their meeting numbed everything. “I had to spend a day chasing dinosaurs once, while she filled the aquarium with trilobites. She got in a fight with chicken sized killer dinosaurs and she loved me more for it. She thought they were beautiful.” He closed his eyes. “And you stole her from me.”
“She would not tell me what I wanted to know.” Orbas gave a smile, as though confused that anybody would not see how that explained the death perfectly.
“Murdering scum.” Dad snapped. “Hanging is too good for you.”
“Killing her stopped her ever telling you what you need to know.” I said. “Not a great plan.”
Orbas looked full of venom.
“Stupid as well as wasteful.” Dad muttered. “No wonder your own cult turned against you. Do you know what Hell is Orbas? It is every ounce of pain and suffering you cause others. When you die, you will be hung by your own rope. My suffering alone will keep you there for more eternities than I could ever count. Every second since you took her from me I have had a thousand years of grief. It will not be enough for you. You will never understand what you did.”
“He understands.” Ted said quietly. “He just doesn't care.”
“Ted. Take Dad to the town library. Look through their newspaper archives, public records, anywhere you can for any mention of this Heller.” I spoke as easily as I could. “Doreen can help you. Mister Liberty, would you kindly come with me?”
Val nodded. He gestured for me to lead the way. Ginger was waiting by the door, stroking his flaming pitchfork lovingly. He gave me a salute as I walked past.
*
I walked through the town with Val, Tiger and Wendy following close by me. It was afternoon already, with many of the towns residents stopping to have lunch. The day was rushing past far too quickly and I knew I did not have too many left. My head kept feeling like my skin was shrinking and my skull was inflating. I put it out of my mind.
“So what did you want to ask me, but not while we were around the prisoners?” Val asked. “Gosh, don't look so surprised my friend, it is knitted right there in your frown. You have been thinking far too hard for a few minutes now.”
I showed him the battered copy of the old story book.
“A Devil Called Mischief?” He said. “I never heard of this.”
“Open it, tell me what you think.” I said.
He flicked it open. His eyes narrowed. “Now I thought the first page of a book was meant to be the details of the publishers and the warning that nobody was real? Where is that?”
“I don't know.” I admitted. “I never noticed that.”
“Wow. Is this...” He held up the picture book and flicked through the pages. “Is this Heavens Edge?”
I nodded. “Looks like it. And Mum gave it to me.”
“Who, it seems was born here. Got a picture?” Val asked. I found a picture on my phone and handed it to him. He smiled with recognition. “Well I never? And her name was Birch? Well, King Nee Birch? Gosh darned.”
“You know her?” I said.
“Elm. Miss Elm. Her dad ran the fire brigade here in town for years. Most people never knew his name as anything but...” He gave a laugh. “Chief. He was Chief so they called her Miss Chief.”
“Their original name was not Rodderick or Heller was it?” I asked.
Val shook his head.
“So,” I gestured for the book back and flicked to a page set in the church yard, “whose grave is this?” I pointed at one of the tombstones in the drawing.
“Roderrick Heller, died a bad feller,” Val read, squinting at the illustration.
“Everything else is right in the drawing. Is there a church that looks like that?” I asked.
Val nodded. “Sure is. Hop in the truck. It's a few miles from town. The circle runs right through the middle of it. We can go see whose grave is where the picture puts that name.”
“Mum was from here?” I asked.
“Human. Before you ask. None of our genes in her genes. I didn't think she ever worked out our little secret. Guess I was wrong.” Val said. “She was one of the best.”
“Not one of.” I corrected him. “The be
st. Full stop.”
We drove in an awkward silence out to a church that was kept clean and prim with a well tended graveyard. All the graves had at least some flowers on them, mostly winter blooms bound in small bunches with pine sprigs. We walked around the edge, finding the graves that matched the picture. Val frowned thoughtfully.
“John Occam.” Wendy read. “Who is John Occam?”
“Never heard of him.” Val admitted. “Nobody. I would guess, a fiction. Because I have heard of Occam's Razor. And I know Skein is a blade. Like an Edge. Right?”
I nodded.
“So, what do we do now?” Tiger asked.
“We find a spade.” I said. “And I start digging.”
“Oh this sounds like a real bad idea.” Wendy muttered.
“I know.” I said glumly. “But the Skein is dangerous. Some people would do anything to get their hands on it.”
*
Nobody knew he was there. He had entered the House of Prices through means most would not know were there. He lingered in silence, shrouded in shadow, practising patience. Taxman and Loretta walked past, their discussion whispered and urgent. He stepped out of the shadows, his breath echoing within the Glamour Mask. He followed them into the hall and waited until they were standing over one of the fountains.
Then he moved like lightning. He drew the sword from under his cloak in the same movement that drove it through the Taxman's chest. Taxman opened his mouth in a scream but could find no sound as he slipped to the floor, the light behind his eyes going dull.
“No!” Loretta cried out as she tried to strike out at her assailant. He caught her wrist before her hand could touch the mask. “Who are you?” The veiled demon hissed at her attacker.
“Somebody who needs you alive. For now.” He answered coldly. “You will open every cell in your holding facility.”
“And release those who can not be redeemed?” Loretta was aghast. “Never.”
“You will.” He assured her. “You will open them all to Earth.”