by Eddie Patin
"Nap when we get back?"
"Yep."
"What do you think the gargoyles do during the day?" Jason asked, taking a sip of beer. His bottle was almost empty, but he wouldn't get a second. Who knows what they'd encounter when they returned? He'd have to be sharp.
"Shet if I know," Riley replied. "They come from the south and go back to the south, right?"
"Yeah."
Riley smirked. "That was rhetorical, Jason. Maybe they still stay at that necromancer's tower even though the guy is dead."
"Do you really think he's dead? Why would they still be taking people away and bringing them back there if there's no more necromancer?"
Riley shrugged. "Well, he's missing his fruking head, so I reckon he's dead. Skinner paid the Corsairs for the necromancer's head and Skinner's never fooled about a job."
"He can read minds," Jason said, remembering their last encounter at the Bounty Boards.
"Yeah," the soldier replied. "Maybe the gargoyles are eating the people. Maybe they're bringing them back to gargoyle babies. Who fruking knows?"
"But they're golems, aren't they? Not real gargoyles."
Riley laughed. "What's a real gargoyle?"
Jason thought back to DnD then shook his head. His knowledge based on a fictional game didn't really mean shit, did it?
"I dunno," he said, thinking back to everything he'd heard and seen about gargoyles and what they do during the day. "Everything I know about them is from fiction."
"So where do gargoyles go in fiction during the day?"
Jason shrugged. "In some stuff, they're just monsters—like stone animals—and they just keep doing stuff during the day. In that case, maybe they have a home or a big nest where they go back to."
"Or the tower."
"Yeah. In other stuff like ... there was this cartoon from the nineties where gargoyles turned to solid stone during the day. They became statues."
Riley scoffed. "That'd be convenient. The nineties? What's that?"
"Oh ... uh ... just an era of time." Jason shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe we can find out."
"Well they are golems, like you said," Riley replied. "Maybe they're just following some kind of programming even though the necromancer is dead. Maybe they're bringing all of those poor bastards to some giant fruking cage or something where the necromancer used to use the townsfolk for experiments, like that girl said. Or maybe they're all just being dropped in a big pit or something."
"Shit," Jason said, thinking of it.
Riley stood. "Well, let's go." He raised his voice and shouted to the kitchen. "Gliath, make sure to get more shotgun slugs from the bedroom!"
Jason heard the shift of a chair on the kitchen floor and Gliath appeared a few moments later.
"Yes, Ranaja."
He disappeared to the master bedroom where the two of them were staying.
Jason went into the bathroom, used it, then washed his hands and face very thoroughly. He was tempted to take a shower as well like Riley did, but he hadn't been through as much gross stuff, and the dark-ages bath he'd taken back in the Soloster manor was good enough. Looking down to the toilet, he did make sure to grab the half-roll of toilet paper that was hooked on the wall to put into his backpack. So far, all he'd seen in Morgana's house were bedpan-like things, and there was definitely no toilet paper. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste too then made a mental note to assemble a small ditty bag at some point to take with him on adventures.
Before long, the three of them were back in the garage. Jason also took the time to grab an old towel to wrap more golem hearts in, as well as several crumpled-up grocery bags. Maybe if he put one in each plastic bag before wrapping them in the towel, he could keep his backpack cleaner.
"Ready for a long walk across the valley again?" Riley asked with a smirk.
"No need," Jason replied. "I bookmarked Morgana's dining hall."
Riley smiled and scratched his beard. "Good thinking, Jason. But won't that freak out her and that weird sister of hers?"
"Eh," Jason said. "She already knows we come from somewhere else. Besides, I thought you didn't give a shit?"
Riley shrugged. "I don't. Whatever."
Using the OCS, Jason easily opened a rift to the large Soloster dining hall near the long table and chairs. He didn't need the focus key. Universe 936 was definitely compatible with u934; within 95% of his universe's laws of physics. The world was just full of monsters. Weird.
When the Reality Rifters stepped through a blazing and roaring rift, spitting sparks out from its wildly spinning rim all around the dark manor hall, both Soloster women were there and watched with amazement as the orange brilliance reflected in their wide eyes. Jason saw Morgana quickly compose herself. Lillian looked downright terrified and covered her ears with her hands.
After saying hello to the surprised Soloster sisters, Jason and the others made plans to look around town. Riley wanted to check out the wall, battlements, and rooftops where the gargoyles would be approaching from near the southern gate. Morgana wanted to come along as well, and the Reality Rifters welcomed her guidance, but Lillian protested in a huff.
"But you're under house arrest, Morgana!" she exclaimed, glaring at all three men. "If Magister Estren sees you, he'll—"
"None of that matters now, Lillian," the young woman replied. "He's got it out for me one way or another. The rebellion is dead. Estren's won."
"But you're still not allowed to leave!"
"Well, he probably won't try to arrest me while I'm with them," she replied, waving at the three Reality Rifters. "The bullshit doesn't matter anymore. If my village and my people are truly beyond my helping, then I'll at least help with the destruction of the Darkness until that bastard gets me."
"Foolish girl," Lillian said, turning her head violently and whipping around her curls. She opened her book again and looked into it intensely.
Conversation over, Jason thought.
Jason caught Morgana's gaze.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Sure about defying that guy?"
"Don't worry about me," the young woman replied, her green eyes burning.
Jason felt a goofy warmth blooming in his heart. He tried not to smile.
They left.
Morgana led the Reality Rifters to the southern end of town. As the four of them strode down the ruined cobblestone street, stepping around debris and broken pieces of houses, the townsfolk—mostly standing around as if they didn't know what to do back in the shadows of their run-down homes—glared at the woman. They looked at Jason and the Reality Rifters with open awe and fear. Children ran up in dirty rags to grab their parents' legs and stare in wonder. The adults whispered from shattered windows and cracked-open doors.
Jason felt like a goddamned gunslinger, strolling down the street with his rifle in his hands as poor townsfolk muttered around him.
He looked back at Morgana, hearing several villagers lowly say her name. She stared straight ahead as she walked next to him, ignoring them all.
Her eyes flicked over to his. Jason wished for a smile, but she didn't give him one. Morgana looked ahead again instead.
They passed through an area that looked like some sort of merchant market with multiple crude, wooden kiosks covered in cloth and leather tarps. There were several, but most were now abandoned and empty. Only two booths were still manned. One store seemed to be selling potatoes, and the other had many hand-made necklaces lined up on a table. The woman behind the necklace table scurried out from where she was standing and approached them.
"A talisman?" she offered, holding a crude necklace in one withered, dirty hand, draped over her knuckles. It was a thin leather thong with two bone beads and a dull metal disc with a splash of yellowish paint in the middle. "Buy a ward to protect you from the Darkness! It has the Golden Lady's blessing!" She stepped into their path, making Jason stop.
Morgana frowned and stepped around the woman. The others did the same and they kept going.
"Such trinkets ho
ld no power," Morgana said.
"I have all the protection I need right here," Riley said with a smirk, patting his lever action rifle's receiver as the gun bounced lightly across his chest, hung from its sling.
When they approached the Crossroads in the middle of New Bozeman, Jason heard Estren's shrill voice droning out a sermon about the Darkness. He saw several new bodies up on the crosses. There were three new men up there, all unconscious. Two crosses that Jason was pretty sure had men hanging from them yesterday were now empty and colored with dried blood. There were gummy pools of blood and organic stuff on the cobblestone where the crosses were mounted to the ground.
His 'gunslinger power fantasy' immediately crumbled.
"Oh God," Jason muttered, looking at the remnants of prisoners who were obviously slaughtered during the night. "Those crosses—"
"They held good men," Morgana replied, her eyes suddenly steely and her jaw fixed. Jason could see a furious energy inside her. He followed the woman's eyes as she looked over the new prisoners.
"If he's putting people up there to sacrifice to his goddess," Jason said, "then why's he leave them out for the gargoyles to kill?"
"Supposedly," Morgana replied, the word dripping with hatred, "he only sacrifices the worthy. Those who survive the Darkness are allowed such an honor."
"It's also a convenient way to send the people a message about the rebels," Jason said, following Morgana's gaze as it seemed to get stuck on two prisoners in particular.
"It makes the rebels not want to fight," she replied quietly.
The two men that had caught Morgana's gaze were twins. Both of them were battered and beaten all to hell with swollen faces and red scrapes all over their nearly-naked bodies. One had an open wound—perhaps a sword thrust—on one thigh that had somehow stopped bleeding. Both men had long, wild blonde hair and bushy blonde beards. One man's beard was braided with a variety of crude metal beads...
Chapter 19
Morgana stared at the two twins with grim eyes. Jason could sense emotion like a rumbling volcano deep inside her—explosive energy that she radiated while standing next to him—but she stayed calm and perfectly still. For a moment, it looked like Morgana's eyes were welling up with tears, but then she blinked and they were gone.
There were people all around the Crossroads, mostly watching Estren, but many of the townsfolk and Chosen soldiers closest to the Reality Rifters were now watching the four of them.
"... And you will know that you are alive because the Golden Lady desires that you remain alive, good people!" Estren was saying. Jason tuned into the words. "Through these dark times, remember, my brothers and sisters, that if you have faith in the Golden Lady, she will deliver you from the Darkness! We will see her salvation. Hark—what have we here?" he exclaimed, his voice brightening.
Jason looked to the raised platform in front of the church where Estren stood, dressed in his white and gold robes. His skin was fair, soft, and puffy everywhere Jason could see. The old man held his walking staff in one doughy white hand and was pointing to the Reality Rifters with the other, smiling broadly, as friendly as could be. In the sunshine, Josiah Estren's short white hair almost glowed and his dark grey eyebrows looked like thin worms over his eyes.
Riley waved, his Marlin held by its sling over his chest. Gliath was looking up at the hanging men.
"Here are our saviors," Estren announced, "delivered unto us by the Golden Lady. Have no fear, good people! You all no doubt heard the thunder and lightning of these three warriors from the stars killing the beasts in the streets last night! Thank the Lady for the warriors from the stars!" he bellowed happily with a voice like butter. "Tell me, Jason: how many of the demonic gargoyles did you slay during the night?"
Jason felt a jolt of fear when the Magister named him. As the town looked to the Reality Rifters, he felt his neck and cheeks grow hot. He saw golden masks facing him, gleaming in the sun, and the gaunt faces of dozens of people watched him, their wide eyes nearly empty of expression; empty of souls. The seven Virgin Oracles—slender in their dark blue robes—stood behind Estren and watched through their black masks.
Jason saw—as everyone waited for him to speak—Estren's grey eyes had turned to Morgana, and the old man glared at her for an instant with all of the fury of hell.
"Uh ... eight!" Jason shouted. "We killed eight last night. And we'll kill more tonight!"
Estren was beaming again. "Excellent!" he exclaimed with a thump of his staff on the cobblestone platform. His soft skin quivered. "This is wonderful news! Praise the Golden Lady! On behalf of the good people of New Bozeman, I thank you warriors from the stars for your assistance! You deliver us from evil!"
"Well, we're trying," Jason replied.
Estren paused, smiling broadly. "Indeed!" he said. Then he looked straight at Morgana. "And Ms. Soloster," he exclaimed. "Whatever are you doing outside of your family's home? It's ... ah ... unconventional ... to see you out and about."
Morgana glared at Estren. Jason expected to see green fire seeping out of her emerald eyes. She opened her mouth, collecting her response...
Jason cleared his throat. "We need her," he said, loud enough to give Morgana pause. His heartbeat quickened. "We are preparing tactics for tonight's hunt and she is our guide." Everyone stood quiet for a moment. "Her family did build this town, after all," he added.
Estren stared at her for a moment then his soft face smoothed over into another comfortable smile. "Very well," he said. "Go forth with my blessing." He addressed the crowd. "All of you good people, be kind to these warriors from the stars sent by our Golden Lady. Be welcoming to the three of them. They are guests in our beloved town and are doing us a great service!"
Morgana pushed forward through the crowd and the intersection, leading them on to the southern gate.
Jason and the others followed. Once they passed, Estren resumed his sermon.
"You must believe in and follow the Golden Lady with your whole heart! With an imprecise view of faith in Her and our Communion, you will not be protected from the Darkness! Some of our good people have died during the night lately. These people were not devout in their worship of the Golden Lady! Look now upon these heathens—the cursed rebels that sought to expel our Golden Lady from this beloved town. These rebels we will sacrifice to Her on her night of the full moon. The evil in their hearts will appease the Darkness! We will seek out all heretical rebels that shun the Golden Lady and give them to Her to thank Her for sending us these warriors from the stars!"
The Magister went on and Jason stopped listening. He focused on Morgana. She strode on toward the south end of New Bozeman, staring evenly ahead.
Jason suddenly felt like Estren had said those things about the rebels just for her.
He hated the man.
He'd be happy to put a bullet in that creepy man's brain if it would give Morgana some comfort and if it didn't interfere with their mission. Obviously, if he did it any time soon, they'd have a harder time getting their work done without the whole town turning on them.
Jason frowned.
Morgana's voice suddenly pulled him out of his dark thoughts like cool water on his face.
"I'd still be up there," she said, looking at Jason. She'd slowed down to be next to him. As they walked, Morgana took a deep breath and visibly calmed. "I'd be up on that cross still, waiting to be executed tomorrow—or dead from the gargoyles at night—if you didn't save me."
She gently touched Jason's arm as they walked, which sent strange, warm shocking sensations straight to his heart.
Jason smiled. She smiled back.
Then he looked over at Riley and saw the soldier roll his eyes.
When the four of them reached the courtyard and the front gates, the Reality Rifters looked around. Jason looked up at the watchtower and saw a single man sitting up there. He wasn't a Chosen soldier—he was just a normal guy. The entrance of the town had a large cobblestone square just inside the gates, surrounded by dead grass and dried
mud. There was a good bit of open space before the streets and houses began.
Jason looked at Riley and saw the soldier scanning the walls. He could see the wheels turning in Riley's head, no doubt planning positions and strategies. There was a large, stone staircase emerging from the wall on either side of the gate, leading up to the battlements.
They might be in a pretty good position for most of the night by just staying up on the walls in places where they could defend each other if need be. Jason figured that Riley was thinking the same thing: splitting up to cover more firing lanes—more opportunities to shoot gargoyles down, right out of the air even—while all still in view of each other and able to shoot across the square to help in the event of someone being attacked on the wall.
Maybe, Jason thought. It seemed like a good idea, at least.
There was a strange ape-like screech from the other side of the wall and Jason thought of the cannibals back in the Wilderlands. It must have been one of those primitive people on the west side of town that they'd sighted from the valley. Those savages reminded Jason a lot of the cannibals except that—from what Jason could tell—they weren't reptile-men. They looked more like cavemen.
"What was that?" Jason asked.
"Trog," Morgana replied.
"What are trogs, anyway? We saw them from the valley outside of the walls."
"They're savage, carnivorous creatures that live in a huge cave system outside of town. Dangerous, but they don't bother us much in here. You can see them from the west wall."
"Jason," Riley said. "Why don't you try rifting us up to the wall from here?"
"You mean like how you wanted me to do in Maze World?" Jason replied. There was a time when tensions were high and Riley had demanded that Jason rift them to a distant ridge, back when he was hell-bent on wiping out Ghrag and all of the Nothrix Reapers who had tried to kill them and murdered his friends. Jason had been afraid to try at the time, but was thinking more and more that he should figure it out. It would be helpful to essentially be able to Dim Door, as if in DnD, like he'd been imaging during the walk to town across the valley yesterday.