A Grimoire for the Baron

by Eon de Beaumont

  By the time he dragged the supplies and equipment back to the edge of the forest, the others sat in a circle, arguing loudly. Some of the crewmen had made it to the lifeboats and were just now coming ashore. After doing a quick count, Querry figured nearly everyone had survived. He hurried to see what the others debated so heatedly, coming to a stop behind Reg. Frolic sat on the other side of the ring next to the tinkerer and the three mercenaries.

  “I will not delay this expedition under any circumstances,” Starling said, smacking the side of his fist against his palm. “The sea voyage took twice as long as it should have.”

  “And whose fault was that?” Reg sat up straighter. “By withholding vital information, you put every man on that ship in danger. You knew what we faced, and you kept it to yourself. Perhaps if we’d been prepared—”

  “I have no interest in your opinion, Mr. Whitney.” Starling dismissed him with a flick of his wrist.

  “I’m not finished—”

  “Yes, you are.”

  One of the sailors—Querry thought he was the first mate—interrupted. “Let him speak.”

  The other seamen murmured their agreement. “We’ve lost our ship, our captain, and our livelihood to this madness already.”

  Starling sighed theatrically. “Very well, Mr. Whitney. What exactly do you propose?”

  “I propose you tell us everything you know about what we’re up against, what we’re actually seeking, and what we can do to protect ourselves. We have the right to know!”

  “I have said all I plan to say on the matter,” Starling snarled. “If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave, boy.”

  “Watch yourself,” Querry said, locking gazes with the baron and crossing his arms over his chest. Contract or not, no one was going to show Reg disrespect while he stood idle.

  “Watch yourself, Mr. Knotte. You’d do well to remember your place.”

  Balling his fists, Querry stepped forward before he had a second to consider his reaction. Only Reg’s outstretched arm stopped him from grabbing the cocky son of a bitch by his fancy collar.

  “Further,” Reg continued, “the course of action you propose is ludicrous at best. How do you expect us to continue forward without any supplies, or even a map to know where we’re going? We need to make our way to a settlement, not into uncharted jungle. We must abandon this mission until we can prepare ourselves.”

  “The lad makes a fair point,” Jack Owens said, without looking up from picking his fingernails with his knife.

  The first mate spoke up. “We’ve come ashore a hundred miles or more south of the port city of Morazan. To reach it on foot will take forever.”

  “We continue on to the temple,” Starling said idly.

  “Temple?” Querry said to himself. He didn’t recall Starling referring to it that way until now.

  “With all due respect, sir,” Owens said, “continue onward with no supplies, not even water? That’s suicide.”

  “How vill ve find this place vith no map?” asked one of the dark-haired, mercenary brothers.

  “I can find it,” Starling said. “I assure you I can, and you don’t need to know how.”

  “I think we do,” Reg said.

  “I’m afraid I agree,” Owens said. “We ain’t going no farther without food, water, and proper equipment.”

  “I’ll pay you double,” Starling offered.

  “Won’t do me no good if I’m dead,” Owens replied.

  “Then I shall continue on with only the aid of my servant, Frolic, and Mr. Knotte,” Starling said. “The rest of you may do what you like.”

  “You will like hell!” Reg got to his feet. “You’re not taking my friends anywhere unless we’re ready for what we’ll face. I won’t let you.”

  “I’ve had enough of you.” Starling waved his hand, and an invisible force knocked Reg to his back on the sand. Reg skidded a dozen feet before coming to a stop and lifting his head. A trickle of blood ran from one nostril, over his lips, and down his chin. “You can do nothing to stop me, Mr. Whitney.”

  At the sight of Reg bleeding on the ground, all rational thought abandoned Querry. He drew his pistol, flipped it in his hand, and holding it by the barrel, raised it to strike the baron. Tom hurried to stand between them.

  “He has it coming, Tom,” Querry said. He had no desire to harm the fey, and even less to battle against Tom’s magic.

  “I wish it mattered,” Tom replied.

  “Querry, stop,” Reg said. “We’ll beat him at his own game. I believe the exact words of the contract my friends signed are: “To this end, agents willingly agree to carry out any and all direct orders issued by said patron, excepting those which can reasonably be assumed to lead to serious injury or death. Superficial injury, defined as injury from which agents can recover with minimal treatment, is excluded from this exception.” I think starvation and lack of water constitute life-threatening conditions. Querry and Frolic don’t have to agree.”

  “You little—” Starling gnashed his teeth. “How do you know that?”

  “Frolic has a photographic memory,” Reg said in a taunting tone, clearly not caring a fig if the baron believed him or not.

  Querry felt so proud. Reg had Starling by the short and curlies. He met Tom’s gaze and found the faerie grinning back at him with unabashed delight.

  “I think… I, um….”

  Querry spun on the ball of his foot to see Cornelia stammering, her face as red as her hair. Frolic reached over, squeezed her hand, and nodded. It seemed to lend her the courage to continue.

  She took a deep breath before speaking. “I think we need time to do some repairs. The weapons are wet, and, um… and it’s going to be hard to make it through the jungle on foot. In a few weeks, uh, if Frolic helps me, I can probably cobble something together from what’s left of the ship.”

  “A few weeks?” Starling hissed.

  “But, but, um, it will cut down our travel time later….”

  “And where do you propose we make these repairs, girl?” the baron asked. “Do you see a workshop around here anywhere?”

  “We have passed a small settlement on our way to Morazan,” one of the sailors said. “We noticed it tucked into the trees as we sailed by. It sits on a hill enclosed by a fence of large trees sharpened to points. I have no idea who holds it, but it lies only about twenty miles to the north and maybe ten miles into the jungle.”

  “We should head there,” Owens said. “Hopefully they’ll be willing to trade.”

  “In that case, we should… ah, should salvage anything we can carry from the ship. For, um, collateral,” Cornelia said.

  “Brilliant!” Frolic got to his feet. “Let’s get to work.”

  They spent the rest of the day reducing the beautiful airship to saleable parts, and since they had no shelter to rest beneath, at nightfall they set off for the walled settlement. Frolic and Cornelia had managed to cobble together a set of wheeled carts, which they pulled with great difficulty into the jungle.

  NOT LONG after darkness fell, it rained. The violent but brief storm left all of them soaked to the bones. A thick mist shrouded the forest and made Querry feel like he waded through warm water as their company made slow progress up the coast. Rocky, uneven terrain impeded them. Querry thought of little but the annoyance and his hunger, thirst, and desire to rest until they turned from the beach into the jungle. The broad, thick leaves of the native trees blotted out even the starlight, and they stumbled through the eerie shadows. Querry had expected the jungle to be silent at night and found it anything but. He didn’t recognize the sounds of the insects and birds around them, and a few times he knew he heard larger animals moving in the thick bracken surrounding them and the branches above. He had no idea what manner of creatures called the bizarre land home, and he kept a hand waiting on his clockwork pistol. Odd cries and songs from things Querry couldn’t even imagine filled the black spaces outside the weak glow of the few lanterns they’d salvaged.

  All
of Querry’s muscles tensed and strained, awaiting some attack or confrontation. Every few seconds, he looked over his shoulder at Reg, helping to drag a cart, and Frolic, who carried far more than his share with his extraordinary strength and endurance. Querry kept expecting something to spring out and ambush them, and he had to be ready to defend them. He’d never imagined any area packed with so many living things; the Anglican forests stood silent at night save for the occasional call of an owl or the rustle of the underbrush as a badger or fox scurried past. Though he’d admit it to no one, not even his partners, Querry felt on edge. He’d grown up among towering smokestacks, crumbling boarding houses, brothels, factories the size of villages, and meandering alleyways. He felt out of place among the massive trees, rampant, flowering undergrowth, and vines the size of his ankles. Querry knew how to defend against pickpockets and thugs, but creatures he couldn’t even picture made him uncomfortable. His senses reached the pinnacle of alertness, and his every fiber prepared to react.

  Finally, in the middle of the night, after the half-moon had fallen below the ragged horizon, they reached the rough path leading up to the walled stronghold. Querry almost felt relief as they approached it; at least they’d be facing ordinary and predictable men.

  They could see the gate, but Querry’s eyes continued to scan the dark expanse of the trees on either side of the path. He and Reg walked just behind Frolic and Cornelia. Reg had relinquished his post on the cart to another. They’d all been taking turns on the carts with the exception of Starling, the first mate, and Owens, who led the procession. The various crewmembers walked in small groups behind the carts while the mercenary brothers brought up the rear. Querry noted Tom Teezle walking just off the proper path near Starling but a few steps behind.

  Querry still couldn’t see anything. Although the wildlife in the trees seemed to have calmed somewhat, the sudden lack of noise made Querry even more uneasy than before. Reg was silent, scowling. Frolic and Cornelia conversed easily while the first mate and the baron discussed their plans in hushed tones. Owens and his men were silent, wearing grimaces similar to Reggie’s, while the sailors whispered sporadically, obviously on edge in this foreign landscape.

  Something loosed a high-pitched howl, causing Reg and a number of others to jump. “Monkey,” Owens grumbled.

  Maybe that’s his way of comforting us, Querry thought. If he even cares about our comfort. Querry suspected the man didn’t. Querry knew his type; Owens’s first priority was his pay.

  “Thank God. We made it,” one of the sailors commented as the first rays of light from the torches on either side of the gate shone on their party.

  Frolic stopped so suddenly Querry almost bumped into him. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered, casting his gaze about the road, straightening his back, and reaching for his sword.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Owens contradicted.

  “No. He’s right,” Starling agreed, turning toward his indentured clockwork. “Something is wrong.”

  “Very wrong,” Tom Teezle chimed in, finally joining the rest of the group.

  The sailors crowded closer to the center of the road. Querry had just enough time to feel stifled by the sudden press of humanity when he heard a violent crashing. He snapped his head to the left, opening his eyes wider, trying desperately to penetrate the gloom.

  “Oh, bugger,” Corny exclaimed. The tinkerer had managed to shoulder her way to the edge of the crowd. She wore a set of elaborate goggles with dials and lenses that she fiddled with. Querry had once owned a similar pair ensorcelled to allow him to see in the dark during his work. They probably lay on the bottom of the ocean now.

  “It’s huge.” Corny’s tone sent goose bumps over the flesh on Querry’s arms.

  “What’s huge?” Reg whispered the question. Querry shrugged without looking at him, instinctively moving closer to stand in front of him.

  The crashing noise was steady, the sound of something bounding through the jungle. The mercenaries donned their own goggles, raised their rifles, and pointed them toward the crashing that was now joined by rhythmic grunting. Querry waited for the hail of gunfire, but the mercenaries must have been just as shocked as he was at the sight before them, so shocked they forgot the weapons in their hands.

  The thing that emerged from the foliage sent chills up Querry’s spine, renewing his dusting of goose flesh. It was huge, as Corny had observed. The beast had the body of a man but wrong and disproportionate. The arms were too long, more like an ape’s, covered in thick muscle, the sinew beneath the skin bunching as it advanced on them. The beast’s head was that of a wild boar, dangerous tusks protruding from the lower jaw. Dark, wiry hair grew from it, down its neck, thinning out to a sparse peppering over its shoulders. It wore a stained loincloth, hairy legs with cloven hooves visible beneath. In its massive right fist, it carried a spiked club.

  “That’s… not normal,” Reg observed with obvious trepidation in his voice. His reaction might have been funny in a less dangerous situation. He pressed his shoulder flush with Querry’s. “Is this another faerie creature?”

  “Indeed,” Teezle answered with an air of what Querry could only describe as nonchalance.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Starling said, squaring his stance and spreading his arms in preparation for a spell. The Boar-man grunted like a railway train and pitched a rock at the baron, dropping the man instantly. Querry watched as his companions traded worried glances.

  “Tom?” Frolic said the faerie’s name like a prayer, tugging Tom’s sleeve. Teezle curled his lip, preparing to strike, when the monster’s club caught him in the chest, knocking him off his feet and batting him deep into the jungle. Frolic still held a scrap of Teezle’s sleeve, though it was no longer attached to the faerie’s shirt. The wind from the beast's bludgeon ruffled his hair.

  “Get down,” Querry called, reaching for Frolic as a floodgate opened. Whether it was the loss of their magic-users or Querry’s exclamation, the sailors started screaming and scrambling from the monster. Abandoning the cart, they ran, pounding on the gate and calling for entry. A few raced toward the forest. Querry managed to get Frolic and Reg safely behind an upturned cart, though Frolic searched frantically for Cornelia.

  “Shit,” Owens spat. He must have remembered the big hunk of metal in his hand was a gun. “Boys!” The mercenaries leveled their weapons at the monster and promptly opened fire. The beast waded into the shower of bullets like it was nothing more than a pleasant, spring rain. The Boar-man trumpeted a great, snorting oink and swept the mercenaries aside with one pass of its enormous weapon.

  The first mate rallied some of his men, and with a violent cry, the braver of the sailors charged the creature. Unfortunately, the beast was ready, batting the men away with its fists and club, snapping others up in its massive jaws. Within minutes, the first mate’s squad lay scattered over the forest floor, injured or worse. A few of the sailors ran willy-nilly, frantic with fear. The beast plucked them from the ground or launched them into the trees with a swat from its club.

  Owens got back on his feet, bellowing while he charged the beast with a knife the length of a man’s forearm. He must have lost his gun when the beast smacked him, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. The Boar-man started to turn, but Owens was already in the air, leaping onto the monster’s back. The blade bit into the meaty flesh of the Boar-man’s right shoulder with a spurt of blood. Using the blade to pull himself up, Owens drew back and walloped the bellowing creature across the jaw. Querry had to admit the bastard had brass balls.

  “He’s mad,” Reg said from behind Querry’s shoulder.

  “Maybe,” Querry answered. “But look, it’s dropped that bloody, big club.” The creature’s right arm hung limply, but it had already reached up with its left to wrench Owens from its back. To the man’s credit, before he released the handle of the blade, he gave it a final, angry twist. The Boar-man squealed, raising Owens into the air, shaking him in its fist. All the beast’s attention now fo
cused on the mercenary.

  Querry saw his window and made a quick inventory of the weapons at his disposal. While he formulated his most effective plan of attack, Cornelia’s bellowing cry drew his attention. She cocked her arm back, hammer in hand, and let loose. The tool whistled through the air before it connected with the Boar-man’s knee, shattering the joint and crippling the monster.

  The beast dropped the man clutched in his fist and crumpled to the ground. Querry made a move toward the creature, but Frolic was over the cart, charging the beast before Querry could draw his pistol. Before he could cock the hammer back, Frolic was already on the monster’s head. The clockwork boy grabbed the beast’s tusks and pulled them, angling the monster toward a tree. Querry stood with his mouth gaping as he watched his perfect beauty steering the giant monster like some sort of horrific carriage. The creature bellowed as it slammed into the tree trunk. The Boar-man stumbled dizzily.

  Pressing his advantage from his seat on the monster’s snout, Frolic laced his fists together and raised them above his head. Querry thought he felt the force of that strike. The monster shook its head, dropped to its good knee, and tumbled forward. Querry hooted with pride. When he turned to share the moment with Reg, he found his oldest friend gone. The thrill of victory quickly turned to panic.

  Reg reemerged in front of the collapsing Boar-man. Querry opened his mouth to say something; he didn’t know what. Reggie had retrieved Frolic’s sword. Querry’s lovers exchanged glances, and Frolic nodded, leaping off the monster. Reg pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and tightened his grip on the hilt before he swept the mystic sword through the air. The Boar-man’s black eyes grew wide before his head separated from his body. Reg roared as the monster’s blood fountained from its neck, splashing across him.