Few months back we even traveled to London for a test run, nicely hidden by the fact Vicky had a spectro-portrait to paint for one of the Rejuvenation Society matrons. Made sure that when I left the Pit I wouldn’t be coming out in a city filled with Sawaephim. Think we can all imagine the problems that might present. KH go home! Stop trying to hang me, you bastards! I’m not a demon! Promise! Or at least . . . it’s never been proven beyond a reasonable doubt!
Instead, the London equivalent in the Geo Realm was a small, mountain valley. Inhabited with farms, but sparsely so. Shouldn’t be a problem as long as I didn’t announce myself or cause a scene . . .
Sneak Mode King Henry.
Not Foul Mouth King Henry.
Very important.
Don’t go UFO.
Don’t anal probe the Sawaephim.
Don’t steal any of the giant pigs they keep as their version of cattle.
Extraterrestrial Geo Realm giant pig bacon?
No!
Bad King Henry!
We still couldn’t be sure where I would come out in said valley when I crossed over from the Pit, but we had the general area. Everything looked good. No problem. No problem at all . . .
[CLICK]
My first sight in the Geo Realm was of a Sawaephim sitting on a rock, sharpening his lance.
First time in my life I wished that phrase was just a sexual euphemism.
I was surely the more shocked of the two, catching sight of tell-tale black skin so dark it’s blacker than midnight, hair so fine it might as well be feline, eyes so blue they almost glowed, and slightly pointed ears that bent out from his head in the light of the day.
Day, even though it was night in London. Something to do with our east being their north and poles and more math than even T-Bone wanted to bother with. Who cares about the time differential, you fucktard, you have a Sawaephim sitting in front of you!
Only he didn’t seem the least bit surprised.
Didn’t stop sharpening his lance, barely even blinked at my sudden appearance out of thin air.
Stood there in shock, mouth in the ‘oh shit’ shape, until I looked beyond the fact he was Sawaephim and saw his features, his clothing, and especially the many devices and gadgets strung and tied about his Ye Ole Armor of leather and chain-links.
I instinctually sucked in a massive one-hour pool of geo-anima in a split second, but in that same split second my whole body relaxed. A little. Still bad. Just not kidnapping the locals for experimentation bad. “Poug?” I asked in disbelief.
“Did you think the Great One would remain blind to your plans, King of Dirt?” Poug asked with the usual twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Finished with sharpening the lance, he stowed away the whetstone and went to work with the mechanism around the base of the steel, making the pointy end of the blade retract downwards.
Poug . . . here.
In front of me.
Halfway across his world from where I last saw him.
“Not exactly, just figured he’d be on the other side of the Realm. I’d never put technology past your people, but I don’t think you have airplanes.”
“Airplanes . . . flying machines, yes? No, flying is against the nature of this Realm. Still, the Great One is everywhere,” Poug reminded me of a fact that didn’t best please me, “and pieced together your plan many weeks ago. I was at once ordered to travel to this spot with all haste and await you. Many mounts of many kinds died to speed me on my way.”
“Wasn’t another templar around to do the job?” my curiosity got the better of me.
“There are templars and then there are templars worthy of knowing, speaking to, and protecting the King of Dirt,” Poug said solemnly, but not without his usual hint of pride.
“Val’s not here for you to impress this time, buddy.”
“This world is darker by her absence, King of Dirt. Have the two of you married yet?”
“No . . . we . . . kind of . . . broke up.”
Poug’s face grew darker than his black skin. “What did you do?”
“I did nothing! Absolutely nothing! For once, it totally wasn’t my fault.”
“You were seduced by another woman seeking the status as your bride, it must have been,” Poug decided with scorn. “What ruin your bodily passions bring upon us all, King of Dirt!”
“She broke up with me,” I growled and grumbled and just about spit. Another Realm and still my love life was of more import than the shit I should’ve been doing.
Poug frowned at me, unbelieving.
I tried again, slightly calmer, “Our mentor gave her a very important job, a day’s travel even with an airplane, and Val decided she had to set me free. Fucking martyr, good-hearted, only hero around that she is.”
“You must fix this, King of Dirt! She is the Queen of Fire!” he said like it explained everything and would magically make the world right.
“Yeah, well . . . I’m busy with other stuff at the moment.” I gave a wave at the valley around us to emphasize that fact. We were on the rim, higher up in some foothills, on the opposite side from where T-Bone and I had arrived during our practice run. Based on what we had put together, I’d need to descend into the valley slightly southwest to arrive in the general area where the Vault was located.
“Stealing items of power from others of your discipline,” Poug said, letting the Val matter thankfully drop. “The Great One knew this day would come. While he has forgiven you as the King of Dirt, he has little trust of the other fools who laugh at the very idea of his existence, especially such fools who have made the Prophet their enemy instead of bowing to you as their leader.”
“Yeah . . . I’m really fine with not having to lead them, especially with there being no bowing . . . at all. Also, I already got the only item of power I’m interested in owning; I’m more looking to steal knowledge.”
Poug nodded in thought. “Stealing knowledge is wise, but why steal what the Great One could give to you?”
I gave him a look.
“He is the Great One,” was all Poug said in defense.
“Great One or not, dragon or not, he has wants and needs and knowledge given ain’t free. Tired of paying a price asked, Poug, so gonna steal me plenty of it. Might still be a price, but at least it’s on my terms. Now, were you sent to help me or do I need to entomb your ass in dirt until I walk on by?”
Poug too looked down at the valley. The air was so clear. No birds of course, but a weak sun and clouds and . . . not a hint of smog. The sound of it was even jaw-dropping, the lack of all those noises we get used to on Earth. Gone. Other noises replacing them, but not nearly as loud, not nearly as violent or mechanical. The only sight of technology was a waterwheel near one of the farmhouses below us, barely visible.
“These are simple people on the edge of civilized lands. They face hard winters and raids by baser Sawaephim. Still . . . they have eyes. If they see you, they could bring others and if you bumble about alone the likelier that would be. So I will stay and help you move about unnoticed or, if noticed, give aid and explanation that will see no one harmed,” he finally decided, a hint of mischief in the set of his face. “As you say . . . the Great One is on the other side of the world. He has told me to offer you aid, not to interfere in your plans, so that is what I shall do.”
“Good to have you on Team Don’t Lick the Vamp Clit, Poug,” I told him with a hand out to shake.
“What is ‘clit,’ King of Dirt?”
“Perhaps we’ll get into that term later,” I hedged before beginning to descend from the hills.
“It has to do with a sexual organ?” he guessed as he immediately jogged ahead to take point.
“Of course it does.”
“Men or women?”
“Women.”
“Lick . . . ahh . . . the bunala, our people are not so different when it comes to pleasure points.”
Just how I wanted to spend my night, talking clits and dicks with an elf. “We need to cross the valley to the other
side, my friend and I set up a small cache of equipment I’ll need.”
“Weapons? Explosives?”
“Electronics.”
Poug’s eyes widened. He seemed to remember something and motioned for me to stop. “I know of a path that will speed us where you wish. No more than two hours to take it and untraveled except by wildlife and old rangers like myself. But first, I must return your gift!”
He pulled out a beat up looking smartphone. Took me a moment to realize it was the one I’d given him last time I’d seen him, over a year ago. I took it back, finding it obviously without power. “Couldn’t get it to keep going?”
“I did, but the Torchmakers of Sawapann were far too interested in the device after I first paid them for their service. Better to treasure the hours I had of your world and your stories than to be greedy for more and see suspicion claim my people.”
Think I’ve gone through fifteen phones since this one, I thought. And yes, it’s a problem breaking them like that, I know it, it doesn’t help that I’m only halfway responsible for it most of the time. “I didn’t bring your knife with me.”
“The gift was in the use, not in the item itself,” Poug declared.
“Still . . . maybe T-Bone’s cache will have something you like.”
“Electronics,” Poug mumbled, “an interesting word. There is one thing I must learn however, about what I saw on this story device.”
“We apparently have two hours of walking in front of us, go for it,” I said, thinking I would have to explain the Mancy only knows what kind of porn I happened to have saved on the thing.
Poug turned to look at me with his most serious expression yet. “Tell me . . . Robb Stark avenges the death of his father, yes? The tyrant king Joffery is slain? The beautiful Sansa is rescued unmolested?”
“Oh,” I said, realizing I had Season One of Game of Thrones on the phone. Oh, I thought as I remembered how fucked up that show was. How do you break that to someone? It was Santa Ain’t Real kind of revelation. You lie, that’s what you do. Even if you suck at lying. “Sure . . . humans are known for their happy endings. We just . . . love them.”
“Good!” Poug proclaimed in joy, “As it should be!”
“As it should be . . . happy ever after with good ol’ family entertainment Game of Thrones. Just loves making people . . . happy . . . and satisfied.”
Poug nodded, before being overcome by another frown. “Also . . . why do so many of your men stick their shashu in a woman’s second hole? Do they not want children? And the hair over all of your bodies . . . do you not get fleas like animals of the field? Some women had none in their pleasure spots, but others had tiny artistic shapes, it was most confusing.”
[CLICK]
I’d practiced faster ways of traveling in the Geo Realm than my feet could carry me, but being as it had left T-Bone in my dust, I couldn’t imagine Poug would keep up either. Maybe if he had a horse. Horse or not, we’ll leave that discussion for tomorrow after he’s digested Brazilian waxes and Ass-to-Mouth.
What had really rocked his world was what all that human sex led to. “Seven billion,” Poug whispered in awe. “There are maybe a million people in Sawapann, but the other cities are smaller, some far smaller. I doubt there are even half a billion Sawaephim alive today.”
“Yeah, well, consider our numerical advantage the next time you start having dreams about invading Earth, okay?”
Poug chuckled. “If the walls ever fall, a trillion humans would not deter us from having our revenge, even if we die seeking it.”
“Against the Vamps, right? The Parasites?” I led him on.
He got a tight smile on his face as he turned back to wag a finger at me. “The Great One would want you to learn of this from him.”
“Hey, I told you what a Dirty Sanchez is!”
“I rather wish you had not, King of Dirt.”
“Vamps need a good ass-kicking,” I tried to get him to talk some more.
Again he gave me the tight smile.
“Met some of the Divines,” I tried a third time.
He flinched as he walked, not even turning this time.
“Inanina, Eresha, Pwent, Nii-Vah . . . ring a bell?” Nothing. A very focused nothing. “They made me stand before them, questioned me about the World-Breaker. Would’ve killed me then and there if they knew the truth. One of them still tried even not knowing it. Killed her sister too, so they can die. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
Poug turned slowly, stopping our pace through the bramble and brush of the hills lining the valley. “You watched one die? Truly?”
“Eresha. She was two or three stories high, like a giant winged angel made of nothing but blood. Her sister used a necromancer to sneak Constructs into her lair and then attacked with them, almost fifty in all. They cut her to pieces bit by bit. When I was sure she couldn’t possibly win and would fall to them, I pulled down the entire roof on her and the Constructs, wiping all of them out.”
Glowing sapphire eyes widened. “You are the King of Dirt.”
“Wasn’t that impressive really. Just saving my own skin . . . and someone else.”
He turned back around, restarting our progress. “Most impressive acts begin so, in my experience.”
“Been meaning to ask . . . not about your sworn enemies—who for some reason you don’t want to talk about, but—”
“Cannot,” he interrupted.
“Yeah, yeah, same bullshit as all the rest, I got it. Hence stealing the truth from the Guild of Artificers and my ass spending its days in prison and its nights running around in Black Elf land.”
“I swore an oath to follow the Great One’s will in all matters,” he said seriously.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve moved on.”
“I am giving you aid as best this oath allows.”
“You sound grumpy, man. Don’t worry, the King of Dirt ain’t blaming you for choosing your master over your human friend, I get how these things work.”
He kicked a rock out of his path.
“But back to my question . . . on our world, the legends about elves—although technically we know you as dwarves, but we’ll ignore that mistake for now—is that they’re eternal, or near enough.”
“You think we live forever?” he laughed.
“Don’t die of old age at least, so my question: how old are you exactly?”
“Two-hundred and twenty-three.”
“Oh.”
“We can live to five-hundred.”
“Right . . .”
“But we are far more likely to die in battle or to sickness.”
“No wrinkles or pot bellies or drooping jowls for the Black Elves, got it.”
“Albaephim are said to live longer.”
“Alba-what-what?”
“White Elves.”
“Oh . . . see many of those lately?”
“Not since our imprisonment in this Realm.”
“Huh. Bet you miss them.”
“Not in the least, I believe you would call them ‘douchebag assholes.’”
Up ahead of us I noticed a distinctive looking boulder near a tree. Of course we have to arrive just when he’s finally talking about something interesting. Granted he wasn’t talking about the Divines or World-Breakers or what exactly went down thousands of years ago, but it was something. Albaephim. White Elves. Aero Realm maybe? Nothing but a bunch of hot women bitching at each other? Fuck if I know.
“This is it,” I announced before turning off the path towards the boulder. It was maybe fifty yards down the hill.
Poug eyed the thing like it offended him. “That was not there the last time I passed this way.”
“I know. I pulled it out of the ground.”
“In my heart I knew you were one of them, but my mind only now sees the proof of it,” he whispered, shaking his head at the offending stone.
“You’ve seen me use the World-Breaker.”
“That was the World-Breaker. This is you. A whole boulder
from the earth. A great deal of power that even the most learned Sawaephim anima users could never hope to accomplish working together, yet you did it in a single moment.”
“Yeah, well . . . kind of got God Mode going in this place. Again: not as impressive as it looks.”
“So you keep saying, King of Dirt,” Poug mumbled as I passed by him, walking up to the boulder.
Said it plenty of times, I’m not a stone kind of geomancer. Usually. Here . . . I wasn’t so bad, since I could waste an hour’s worth of anima in a moment and laugh about it with just as much, if not more, a second later. I grabbed that boulder and pulled it up from twenty feet under the earth. On up it came, five foot jump, by five foot jump.
Hollowed it out.
T-Bone threw my goodie bags inside.
Sealed it.
Sealing or joining rock seams is also something I’m not good at. Doesn’t matter how much anima I have backing me up, it’s just not a skill I can do well. Don’t matter if your fastball is one-hundred miles-per-hour if it always goes into the batter’s head. Same with me and joining rocks together. Plutarch can do it. Makes for some gorgeous statue work. Not me. So my seams were visible and ugly and just . . . it looked like the ugliest weld you ever seen. Or a scar . . . like it’s some giant stone fake tit with that nipple scar pornstars think no one notices. We fucking noticed . . . it’s just a naked titty, so we forgave you.
A twenty-minute blast of geo-anima pulverized the rock surrounded by the seam, spewing out a cloud of fine dust and making a large enough hole for my small ass to step through. Behind me, Poug gasped at the special effects show. Douchebag showoff geomancers, I couldn’t help but think with a wry grin.
Inside of the boulder I found a black waterproof case, which I picked up. It had a smartphone, a digital camera, replacement batteries for the digital camera, an old-fashioned film camera, extra film for the old-fashioned camera, a second Magic Wand in case the first was confiscated, a bug sweeper just in case the Guild wasn’t as stuck in the past as they seemed, a pair of binoculars Pocket had forced me to pack, five-hundred dollars, five-hundred British pounds, five-hundred Euros, and a bag of beef jerky . . . cuz it’s fucking beef jerky.
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 12