Broken Quill [2]

by Joe Ducie

  Stormborn grinned as if I’d just turned piss into gold. “Declan. Of course. And please call me Augustus. As I was saying, I can’t tell you what a genuine honor it is to meet you—the boy who ended the Tome Wars.”

  “Would you like to sit down?” Tia asked, pouring the mayor a glass of the honeyberry juice.

  “Thank you, Tia. Yes, yes. Thank you.” He was flustered, perhaps due to the spare tire he seemed to be carrying around his waist under a suit as fine as any I’d ever seen. He removed his hat and placed it on the table. Lord Mayor Stormborn sipped at his glass of juice and sighed happily. “Ah, Tia, that is something special. Squeezed not two days ago, am I right?”

  “Yes, sir. Picked them myself.”

  “Heavens, girl, but you do make some fine drinks.” Stormborn pushed back from the table and looked over his glasses at me. “Now, Declan, I’m sure you can probably guess at my reason for this visit as much as it pains me to make it. You know that Meadow Gate is neutral territory. Under the accords signed by men far older and wiser than you or I, Knights or Renegades or any refugee from of the Tome Wars could come here and, provided they work, expect aid and succor.”

  “I am aware, yes. The accords still stand, as far as I know. You’ll forgive me if I missed anything over the last few years. I haven’t really been kept apprised of Forgetful politics.”

  “Well, as it may,” Stormborn said. “This is a place of peace, of harmony. You can understand that a man with a past as...” Here he sighed and dabbed at his brow with a silk handkerchief.

  “Bloodstained?” I offered idly, picking crumbs from my waistcoat.

  “Notorious,” the mayor said. “A past as notorious as yours may cause concern among the people already here. For some of them, like Tia here, the war wasn’t that long ago. We also had a flood of refugees from the devastation in Reach City and Voraskel six years ago. Two battles, I’ve been told, you had a direct hand in.”

  “If you’re asking me to leave, just ask,” I said. “Given my status as exile, the Ragnarok Accords most likely do not extend the protection of this place to me. I’m sure there’s a loophole to exploit.”

  “Now hold on.” The mayor held up his hands for peace. “I, like many others, think some of things you did were heroic, lad. You were—you are—a war hero, and I’d want no harm to come to you or yours.” He glanced at Annie. “Which is why I’m suggesting, just suggesting mind, that perhaps you do move on sooner rather than later. Meadow Gate would take you if that’s what you want, but you might not be happy here.”

  Tia scoffed. “Who’s leaning on you, Augustus? The Merchant Council? No, it’s Harry and the Nightwatch, isn’t it?” She cursed. “Sweet mercy, that jealous idiot.”

  “Now, Tia, I didn’t come here to stir up trouble. I came here out of respect for you and for Commander Hale. We’d still be at war and our sons and daughters would still be dying by the thousands if he had not acted... but a lot of people still see the faces of the children we did lose. Five years is a long time, but really, is it a long time at all when it comes to such terrible memories?”

  “I won’t be staying more than a day, Lord Mayor,” I said. “I didn’t intend to come here at all, but it was somewhat unavoidable.” Weapons of celestial illusion could be volatile.

  Stormborn sighed. “Understand, I don’t like doing this, lad, but the tension in the city this morning, the calls to my office alone... Casting you out goes against everything Meadow Gate was built for, why this place even exists. But you’re too well known, you understand? Someone will be hurt if you stay. Maybe even worse than hurt.”

  “As I said, give me the day, and I’ll be gone tonight.”

  The mayor stood and offered me his hand. I took it and felt his soft skin under mine and reasoned this man didn’t spend a lot of time in the honeyberry fields or doing much work at all. I wasn’t so sure I liked the fool, however kind or genuine his words. Still, I didn’t want to stay here. But I needed the morning to try to convince Tia to come with me and to see if I could get Myth to cut through to Ascension City.

  “I’ll spread the word that you intend to depart then,” Stormborn said. “Thank you. Please understand that I’m looking out for the greater good here, and—”

  “You said your bit. I’m leaving. Let’s have done with it, Lord Mayor.” I let a touch of command enter my tone and was pleased to see a bit of the color drain from his face. “Have a nice day.”

  “And you,” he said, clearing his throat. “Tia. Miss Annie.” He doffed his hat, and Tia saw him out.

  Once he was gone, she turned back to me, her lips pursed and tears swimming in her eyes. “How dare he!” she whispered. “How... I don’t believe that just happened.”

  Annie was staring at me strangely. “You’re not well liked, are you?”

  “Not really, no.”

  Smoky light flowed from Tia’s clenched fists as she stomped back and forth in the kitchen. Annie gasped.

  I chuckled. “Tia, you’re glowing.”

  My old friend caught herself and dispelled the Will before she broke one of the laws here in Meadow Gate and had to arrest herself. She took a deep breath and sat back at the table.

  “Okay, so I knew you weren’t staying, but to be told to leave...” Tia shuddered. “I never thought that of these people. Broken quill, we’ve got Renegade commanders here, and they get a pass. But, no, not you—not the Shadowless Arbiter...”

  “I’m trying not to feel too disheartened, but I did make a lot of enemies and scare a lot of people back in the day. I don’t want to bring any trouble down on this town from within it or without.”

  She unclenched her fists and let her shoulders slump. “Okay, so you were telling me what you’re up to—why you’re back in Forget at all?”

  I nodded and looked at Annie. She shrugged and said, “There’s a monster terrorizing our home back on Earth, Tia. A creature called Emissary.”

  Tia looked at me to gauge just how concerned she should be.

  I winked, found a smile, and ran a hand back through my scruffy hair. “A servant of the Everlasting.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  And the World Goes Blind

  Tia set us to making honeyberry pies while we explained the unfortunate situation shrouding Perth. Apparently her bar was famous in Meadow Gate for two things—dessert pies and, for those that could afford it, the sapphire liquor we’d drunk ourselves stupid with the previous night.

  “So it sounds like this creature, whatever he truly is, was sent to entice you in particular,” Tia said, frowning as she folded pastry. Her oven already held a good half-dozen pies, and the scent of baking made me want to catch a mid-morning nap. “Never mind what was going through Faraday’s head when he recalled the legions from True Earth, Emissary—or whatever’s pulling the strings—wanted you to come out and play.”

  “Aye, I’ve been thinking the same.”

  Annie sipped at a glass of water and leaned against the countertop. “Scion, do you think? Like in Emissary’s last message?”

  “I do think...”

  “How can you beat a god?” Tia asked. “I mean, they are supposed to be gods, aren’t they?”

  “Creatures with a lot of power,” I said, thinking of Tal and Lord Oblivion. “But they’re not omnipresent or omnipotent.” But Oblivion was close... “Which kind of excludes them from godhood, don’t you think?” I shook my head, not quite convinced. “Tia, I want you to come with me when I leave.”

  She squeezed my shoulder, leaving a handprint in flour on my waistcoat. “I know.”

  “Will you come with me?”

  She wrapped her tiny little arms around me and squeezed me tight. My chin rested on the top of her head. “Let me think about it. I’ve spent a good six, nearly seven, years here building a life. Also, and I’m not being cruel, but people tend to die around you, Declan. You know?”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Well, when you’re right... Mind if I use your bathroom to freshen up?”

/>   “Of course. Towels under the sink.”

  I spent a good half hour in the shower washing away the fatigue and sweat of the last day or so and came back down to the kitchen feeling refreshed and somewhat ready to face the trials of the day.

  But first—pie.

  *~*~*~*

  “So this has been nice, Tia,” I said. “But we need to be hitting the dusty trail.”

  “I’m not coming with you, Declan,” she replied, as mid-afternoon faded toward a coppery dusk. “I’m far too old and far too young to get involved in any more of your nonsense.”

  I laughed, and Annie smiled tentatively. We sat at the bar once again, sipping dark ales. Tia had delayed opening the place until we’d made tracks. To be honest, I was hesitating to get underway. My time in Meadow Gate, only a day, despite Ace, Sheriff Coras, and the mayor’s visit, found the place redeeming and... fresh. Not quite the right word, but we make do.

  The air was clear and the town quiet, and I’d found a childhood friend long thought dead. I could move my shop here, sit amongst the books and sip honeyberry juice instead of scotch. Or, mayhap, a mix of the two—with a splash of rum or tequila, shaken not stirred, call it something laidback like a Meadow Breeze. Hell, the honeyberry juice may even offset the hangover...

  “Off track,” I muttered, taking a sip of ale. Have to survive Emissary first. Broken quill, I have to survive Ascension City first! “But it’s a nice thought...”

  “What are you talking about?” Annie asked.

  “Nothing. We should get going, yeah? Meadow Gate is a nice distraction, but I want to try to be in and out of Ascension City tonight and back to Perth tomorrow, hopefully at the head of a cadre of Arbiter Knights.”

  Tia held up her glass. “Be careful, you two, and once you’ve sorted out this mess, come back and see me, okay?”

  “Now that I know where to find you, Tia, the gods themselves won’t be able to keep me away.”

  Tia squeezed my knee. “Well, you’ve outlived most everyone who ever doubted you, so I’ll look forward to it—”

  Something shattered across the bar, along the front of Tia’s pub. I whipped my head around, hand to the hilt of my sword, in time to see a small silver sphere about the size of a tennis ball bounce off one of the tables and roll onto the floor toward us.

  Someone had thrown it through the window.

  And it was something I hadn’t seen since the Tome Wars.

  “Bouncer! Down!” I screamed, and tackled Annie off her stool as Tia leaped over the bar. Old instincts died hard.

  The sphere ruptured, cracked as if it were an egg, and a cacophony of hot, vicious sparks, of razor-sharp light, exploded from the device. The sparks shot every which way like a firework spinning out of control, smashing through chairs, tables, and bottles of booze and leaving a trail of greasy, liquid flame.

  I turned at just the wrong moment, and one of the sparks of energy slammed into my left eye. As if I’d been electrocuted, I jerked up off Annie and roared in pain. White-hot fire tore into my eye socket, and I saw nothing but a blinding light that bled from stellar-yellow to ruby-red.

  Annie was shaking me as another bouncer shattered another of Tia’s windowpanes, but I was only just aware of it—my face was on fire but felt painfully cold. Cold was bad. I touched my cheek and wasn’t sure if it was blood or melted flesh my fingers slipped against.

  “Declan, stay down!” Tia cried, and I was surprised to find myself on my feet.

  At some point in the last few seconds, I’d drawn my weak imitation of an Infernal blade and stood up, snarling at the crowds beyond the walls of the pub. My vision was hazy at best, but I wanted to hurt, to wound, to attack.

  Then I was on one knee, glaring at the bouncer that had rolled under the far booths and was heating up fast. Thick, cloying smoke billowed into the air from the burning bar, and more of the bottles erupted. Tia leaped back over the bar, through the flames, and pulled Annie aside. She cast a quick shield of pure Will, stretching it out to envelop me just as the second bomb erupted in starlight.

  A hundred sparks of vicious energy peppered Tia’s shield, pebbles hurled on still water, and a wave of smoky light knocked me onto my back. The world stank of burned liquor and tasted of blood.

  “Not so immortal, after all...” I chuckled, sword in one hand and Myth, my celestial knife, in the other. For all the good my damned weapons did me.

  A large bang echoed throughout the pub from the front, and a sharp slant of flickering streetlight cut across the floor. Through the smoke and the pain, I saw a large figure burst through the door, a dark silhouette against the fire, and then another bouncer went off, and the windows exploded in a shower of light. A shockwave of hot air sent me spinning across the floor and into the bar. I cracked my head against one of the stools, and all hopes faded to black.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Part of the Wave

  When I awoke, it was under a sky strewn with about a billion stars twinkling softly. The alien constellations spun in spiral arms, caught in bands of galaxy cloud, and I felt very, very small, staring at one sky above just one world. I was lying on something soft and spongy, and I could smell... remnants of smoke, but more alluring—honeyberries.

  I sat up with a gasp as memory flooded through my mind as if it were a surge over the walls of a dam.

  “Easy, Declan,” Tia said on my left. She held her glowing hands over Annie’s forearm, and my young detective was grimacing. “We’re safe for now. Ace got us out of the bar.”

  The giant man sat on his haunches, a large cudgel resting on his knees and a sleek, silver revolver in his free hand. He nodded at me once and then continued to glare out at the field of honeyberries surrounding us on all sides.

  “I grabbed these,” Annie said, pointing at my sword and the knife of celestial illusion resting in the dirt below the vines. “Thought we might need them. Thank you for... for healing my arm, Tia.”

  “No problem,” Tia said. “Surface burn like that is easy. I was never much of a healer...”

  It took me a moment, just a moment, to realize I could only see out of one eye.

  I’d been blinded by the light...

  But my face felt fine. Better than fine. I touched my cheek, and nothing hurt.

  “Yeah, I healed you up first while you were blacked out,” Tia said. “Best I can do. There’s a bit of scar tissue around your eye, like burn tissue, I guess, and I didn’t even try to do more than mend the surface of your eye itself.” She came and sat next to me. Her blouse was singed around the collar. “Can you... can you see?”

  I shook my head slowly, and Tia sobbed. “Hey, now, it’s okay.” I winked with my good right eye. “I’ve got a spare. So I think I can guess at what happened...”

  Ace grunted. “Lot of people unhappy with you in town,” he said, giving me a look that suggested he’d contemplated joining the unseen mob that had bombed Tia’s place. No, that was unfair... “Your presence stirred up bad memories.”

  “Thanks for pulling me out of the fire,” I said and meant it. The large figure I’d seen burst through Tia’s door had to have been Ace. “That’s a debt I won’t forget, you hear?”

  Ace shrugged, but some of the tension seemed to bleed from his shoulders. He hefted himself up and strolled away through the vines, muttering about checking the perimeter.

  “He’s a good sort,” Tia said quietly.

  “More to him than I thought last night,” I agreed.

  Tia leaned into my shoulder and burst into tears. She rocked back and forth, hugging her knees, and I floundered for a moment before slipping an arm over her shoulders. Annie, across the way, looked down and clasped her hands in her lap.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “My fault, you know. Karma coming round to bite me in the ass, as is only right, given my past.”

  Tia sniffed and tried to get a hold on her sobs. She couldn’t do it. “You... you’re a good m-man, Declan. You... you don’t...” Her words descended into garbled cries, and I
gave her a kiss atop her head—and missed. This one-eye business played merry hell with my depth perception.

  “We’re survivors, you and I, Tia,” I whispered.

  “I’ve waited seven years just to cry, Declan. Broken quill, I’ve waited this long to find someone who understands just how unhappy I am.” Tia wept, and her nose dripped. Tia wept and was beautiful. “You know, the people here… None of them really know... At least, I’ve never found anyone I can talk to about it. The sordid loneliness and the terrible sadness. You know, don’t you? Please tell me you know!”

  “I know. I get it. Tia, I’m there. Scars you can’t see...”

  She burst into fresh tears and dried them on my waistcoat.

  So it goes.

  A long time later, we were both back in control, and neither of us had sold the world.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m a happy kind of sad,” she said. “I think you understand.”

  “Yes, I believe I do.”

  Annie had kept her silence and her distance while I did my best to comfort Tia. She had picked a few handfuls of ripe honeyberries from the nearby bushes, and we spent five minutes making a supper of them. Shame those pies had gone to waste. There had been enough sugar on the crusts to blast us to Ascension City, never mind risking the knife or the Atlas Lexicon again.

  “Okay, so what’s our next move?” Tia asked, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t think I’m going back to Meadow Gate anytime soon. Imagine I’m no longer too welcome, accords or not.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” I said. “You spend seven odd years building a life there, and I come along and take it away in a day.”

  “I’ll be back,” she said, clenching her fists. “Whoever burned my bar down is going to regret it. But for now I guess I’m with you. There’s a portal to the Lexicon in the Mayor’s Office. We could sneak back in to town and head out that way.”

  “Not so sure on the Lexicon,” I said as Annie shook her head fervently. “We’ve got something else in mind.” I picked up Myth from under the berry vines and presented the knife to Tia. “Look familiar?”