“These two fought in the Great War,” Poug relayed a message for his imprisoned master.
“Divines then.”
“The Great One cannot say. His vision of your world being imperfect, he cannot be sure which of the Parasites have survived and which have fallen. He merely recognizes these two as enemies he has fought before.”
“Pair of twin Divines . . . think I just read about that. Rennya and Cherya, wasn’t it? More bedtime story crap, nothing solid. But yeah, sounds familiar. Stay on the road or Rennya and Cherya will come hunting . . . guardians of bridges and crossroads. Shit. More like guardians of the Realms,” I realized, giving them another look over. If they have a World-Breaker on them, I don’t see it. And if someone was stupid enough to make a World-Breaker that a vamp can use then they need to be hung up by their testicles . . .
Even I only make them sex toys.
Not weapons.
Especially not keys.
Know your limits.
No world altering artifacts for the bloodsuckers, just continuous orgasms for the better part of five minutes.
Five.
Whole.
Minutes.
Whole room gets coated like it’s a giant Slip’N Slide.
Ain’t no Nine-Headed Spitting Dragon, but I’m pretty proud of my work.
“Fine,” I decided. “Tell Meteyos I got his warning. I’ll try to stay away from the Geo Realm for awhile. Be a good boy, all that shit. How is it that a dragon sounds just like Ceinwyn or the Lady or even Miranda Fucking Daniels sometimes?”
Poug smiled at the comparison. “You can be good?”
“Takes a lot of effort and only in small spurts,” I joked.
Poug nodded, expression turning serious again. “Can we speak of the Broken One and your deal with him now? Or will you try to distract me more?”
“I tell you and Meteyos will start whining.” I complained.
“Only to me,” Poug swore. “If you wish me to ignore his voice and talk to you as your friend, then I will do so. He is not the only one worried about you, King Henry. You have come far since the last time we met, but you are still a young man, still new to your power, and there are many monsters in these Realms who could stop you before you reach your destiny. The Broken One is one of those, perhaps the most dangerous among them.”
Couldn’t disagree with his assessment. Paine was dangerous. Not just to me, but to everyone. Why I’d been dreading this day for a year now. Why the idea of Susan getting mixed up in it made it all worse. Chained down, ain’t it? Paine might not know everything I’m up to, but he’s the freer of us, that’s for sure. Ain’t a person on this planet I can threaten that Paine would give a shit about, not even Ceinwyn. All he cared about was the World-Breaker. The World-Breaker and finding this place.
“Don’t want to, Poug, but I have to face him,” I finally said. “Got no choice.”
“Facing is very different than dealing, much closer to fighting, which . . . would be very bad,” Poug whispered to not be heard by the Divines far below us. “You said you made a deal with the Broken One. What was it?”
“He wants the World-Breaker. I told him I’d bring it to him.”
Poug’s dark face blanched as much as it could. “This is not a good deal, even for all the gems in the world.”
“Not for all the gems,” I agreed. “But he has my sister Susan as a hostage. For her . . .”
Poug went especially silent, listening to the voice that was thousands of miles away. “I would not say he is whining, but the Great One is vehemently displeased to learn of this.”
“Tell him one way or the other he don’t get to make this decision,” I warned.
A grin formed on that dark face, showing the barest line of perfect white teeth. “He hates that fact more than even being imprisoned in his cavern. Perhaps if he wasn’t imprisoned the Great One could tear this Paine into pieces, but until that day comes, only his prophet can walk the worlds. So, yes, it is your choice. But a choice to do what? Not submission, never from you. So, is it trickery?”
“Partly. Old move of mine. First one I made after graduation, in fact. How I got the Jinshin Ken in the first place, just turned up to eleven. So yeah, first part of the plan: make a fake World-Breaker good enough to con the Broken One. Second part of the plan: put together enough firepower to fight our way out when Part One inevitably blows up.”
“So a battle of sorts at least. A raid one could say. Stealing a prized possession and escaping. This is a classic battle tactic of the outnumbered.”
“A raid,” I agreed. “T-Bone would like that terminology I suppose.”
“I have not met this ally, though many of yours have mentioned him. Is this T-Bone a great warrior?”
The idea made me grin at the absurdity of the claim. “In his own way I suppose, on his own battlefield. Not exactly made for fighting, but . . . he’s good to have around. He’ll go with me. Always.”
“The Queen of Fire and Queen of Fates as well,” Poug realized.
“Others too. Not many, but enough to save Susan.”
“The Great One fears this,” Poug admitted somberly. “All could come to ruin if the Broken One defeats you and he could defeat you even if you do not give to him full combat. Never doubt his wiles or the lengths to which that twisted mind will go. But . . . this fellow mortal wonders, perhaps a battle is what must be, no matter how dangerous the Broken One is? You are drawing attention now, Dirt King. From these two Parasites only at this time, but more will soon follow. You must be as strong as steel, as sure as stone, as clear in your intent as glass itself. No more doubt. You have stolen truths, you have walked the Realms as no other mancer ever has. You have made powerful allies in the Queen of Fire and the Queen of Fates and this T-Bone. So . . . perhaps it is time to leave your crib. Perhaps your world should know the truth of you and what better way to do so than to stand against the Broken One?”
“Not like I’m killing him or anything. Was just me I might get desperate enough to try it, but . . .”
“Completely defeating one’s foe is precious and rare,” Poug admitted, “but so is protecting the lives of those closest to you. This is the knowledge of a man, not a boy. It is a hard lesson to learn, one often only learned through loss. Harder still for you to learn with your always defiant nature. Part of you sees it as your defeat to reject a battle of pure annihilation and instead go for the smaller victory, but it is not a smaller victory, merely a victory of life over death. It is easy to kill, easiest of all to die, but to continue living? To place you and all you hold dear in danger and come out whole? This is a battle worthy of your strength, King of Dirt. Death is a foe greater than even the Broken One, and She always wins. Stealing from Her is the ultimate defiance.”
Guess two-hundred years of living teaches you a thing or two. “Okay. I heard you. Made some good points for an uneducated Black Elf don’t know what toilets are,” I eventually decided.
Instead of laughing at the joke, Poug’s expression was offended. “Of course we have toilets!”
“Huh.”
“This is the wilds of our lands, if you gazed upon Sawapann you would know the height of true civilization! A bathhouse on every corner! A public fountain on every block!” he kept going.
“I’m sure it’s very nice.”
“The palace has towers that are twenty floors tall!”
“Okay.”
“Made of steel beams as wide as a man’s arm!”
“Gotcha.”
Pough seethed. “We are not all like them, King of Dirt. We are not all the Brightsword and his brigands.”
“Toilets and towers, got it. Do you also have jokes? You remember? Those things you and I tease each other with?”
Silence as Poug’s sense of humor caught up to his people’s honor. “You hit a deep nerve, King of Dirt,” he apologized.
“I do that . . . all the time.” I handed him the binoculars, since I wouldn’t need them anymore. Already gave him T-Bone’s bac
kpack of goodies on the way to this spot, plus all of Pocket’s supplies I hadn’t used yet. “One way or the other, win or lose, guess I won’t be seeing you for awhile.”
Poug nodded, calming down considerably. “Months at least, perhaps a year would be best.”
“Could go down there and kill ‘em right now,” I pointed out, only half kidding, “then we wouldn’t have to worry about that problem either.”
“Did you not hear a single bit of the advice I just gave to you?!?” Poug asked me in exasperation.
“I know, I know. Life before death, all that civilized shit I been fighting since I was five. Would be lots of fun. Me as a God-King against some Divines. You could use that lance again. Fight by the side of the Dirt King. Know you want to deep down.”
“A stupid idea,” Poug repeated, reluctantly I think. “Too stupid even for you, especially since destroying those stolen bodies would not eliminate the Parasite once and for all, only this small piece of them. Better to ignore them and for neither of us to ever return to this place. It is not like battling the Broken One at all. You are trying to turn opada into uvaemi.”
He’s right about not killing them. Got to kill a Divine in their lair for it to be final. Else they just keep coming back with new shells, granted without memories of how they died the last time. Wonder if that’s how all those immortal myths started? Along with the shells that never seemed to age, of course.
Not really important right now, is it you fucktard?
Pushing myself off of the boulder I’d been leaning forward over, I stuck a hand out for Poug to shake, just like the last time I left him behind. Just like the last time I went forward to face Paine despite Meteyos warning me against it. “See ya next time, Poug. Stay safe and enjoy a priestess or two for me.”
“May you find whichever victory you seek for yourself, King of Dirt,” Poug returned after taking my hand. “And your sister, of course. Tell me . . . is she as beautiful as the other women in your life?”
I gave him a look. “I’ll kick your ass you even think about it.”
Poug grinned down at me, sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief again, my slight about toilets forgotten. “You will try, King of Dirt. I already gave you the Queen of Fire without protest, it hardly seems fair for me to surrender the field yet again, especially with a woman you cannot court yourself.”
“If I ever get the chance then I’ll make sure to introduce you,” I promised.
If she’s sane enough to recognize me much less another species . . .
I’m coming, Big Sis.
Not much longer.
Just one more shot in the dark.
One more Vault run.
[CLICK]
“Fucking nothing!” I growled after I spent four hours in the Guild Vault searching high and low. “Find the names of the Divines in half the time, but anything easy on World-Breakers when my sister’s life is on the line? Of course fucking not. Nothing at all that makes this easier than straight up impossible. Nah, just got to leave it hard and raw and ridged for her pleasure.”
Not my pleasure. Fate’s pleasure. Wasn’t dancing with her no more, just her shitting on my face. I’m kinky, but even I’m not that kinky. Accidental finger up the butt, not purposeful shit out of it.
Was starting to wonder if I’d ever had her at my side. Maybe it wasn’t luck that kept with me those few days, but just the skill of the people I brought with me. Val might downplay her library searching prowess before Raj or Miranda, but she’d been the one to find the vampire shelf. And the meeting list with the first clue about what a Maximus means. Ceinwyn found the inscription about the Realms and their dwellers, plus gave me the whole Welcome to the Club spiel.
Maybe there is something to this whole team thing.
Except . . .
No team with me now.
Just King Henry Price’s bungled bumbling in the Guild Vault.
Didn’t help that most of the Guild volumes were from Western sources. “Jinshin Ken of Hiroto Arashi,” I muttered aloud. “Don’t see a lot of Japanese here and even if I could see it, would be no way to read it.” If Hiroto Arashi was even the actual Artificer to make the World-Breaker. Never had been sure on that one. Part of me doubted it. Not some Western bias against the Japanese—love me some tentacle porn and sex robots and used-panty dispensing vending machines as much as the next guy—just felt otherworldly is all. Look at the Pit, at what an entire generation of Artificers led by the Maximus at the time built and it still wasn’t even a tenth as impressive as the World-Breaker.
Oh look, a pretty jade dildo, I think I shall carve my name upon it! Maybe some pretty mountains too! I like mountains! Now everyone thinks I made it myself! What a genius am I!
Wasn’t about if I could do a fake, just about how good it would be. How long did I need Paine to buy it as the real deal? Five minutes? Ten? Long enough to get Susan back to the others. Ain’t vain enough to think he’ll actually walk off thinking it’s real. Would five minutes do it? I could mange five minutes, right? “Maybe,” I whispered, scowling at another book, “maybe more if this wasn’t all crap!”
Frustrated, I called off the search and went upstairs where Massey had his safe. Might have been Ceinwyn and Val did most of the work with stealing the truth, but when it came to cracking steel, that’s a King Henry Price kind of job.
What if that fake ain’t enough? What if I got to fight him straight up? No tricks?
That warehouse in Seattle still haunted me. I lost completely. He toyed with me. I’m better now, lot better, but . . . not as good as him still. Plus, Paine has more artifacts, some I might never have even seen in use. Knows a trick with the Mancy I still don’t too. Notice Ceinwyn didn’t give that up in her little Anima Quota spiel, me one of the elite few or not. Having a team wasn’t enough with Paine. My team cancelled out his team, cancelled out Isabel and Catherine and all the other crazies he’d probably bring with him.
One on one with Paine . . .
Lose that fight nine times out of ten.
Even a crazy bastard like me don’t like those odds.
Maybe Massey got something special in his safe to save the day.
Pissed me off just looking at the thing. What it represented. Might be scared of Paine, I admit it, but fucking Massey? Never. Yet I didn’t get to finish that fight. Artificial Court just be sitting there, without it’s Accused. Never get to have my say. Plan Leverage or not I really wanted my say. Came down to Massey being a bully. Bullying me with his court, with his political power. Even forcing his hand like I did, don’t mean I could take the beating and not want to punch back.
Wasn’t just Massey, either. Was the whole Guild. Need a smack on their collective jaw and I don’t get to give it anymore. Don’t get to enter that rotunda tomorrow and tell them some truths about who I am and who they are and justify everything I’ve done, no matter how bizarre them prudes find it to be in their perfect way of thinking that’s lasted four-hundred years.
Could’ve just been frustration making me extra sour.
Frustration over Paine.
Frustration over giving up all my plans.
Frustration over Susan not being found.
Frustration the world is just shit like I always expected.
Stole some truth and ended up with dirt in my eyes.
Didn’t get to punch Massey, didn’t get to punch the bully.
Least not in public.
But I could knee him in the privates.
“Enough hiding,” I decided. Enough with taking pictures, with making sure to put all the books back where they’re supposed to be. Of being invisible, of being scared, of letting the bully get away with it. “Enough of his thin ass fake smile makes Vega feel warm and inviting. Enough of them eyes like clockwork. Get fucked, Massey. Have fun trying to explain this one to the cleanup crew.”
My pool of anima broke the safe door into hundreds of smaller pieces. The sound they made as they crashed to the floor reminded me of Ceinwyn’s kitchen, that f
irst day at the Asylum when I destroyed some of her metal wall art with an accidental discharge. Except this one was a whole lot louder. Hundreds of pieces of metal instead of maybe a dozen. Also a whole lot less accidental.
The dust settled.
Kneeling down, I peered into the safe.
Three shelves. First shelf had a packet of papers on it, sealed in a plastic portfolio. Papers were sketches and pictures of a sort I very much wanted to see. “That a fucking giant?” Another was of a creature looked a lot like Poug, only with alabaster skin and pale blond hair. “White Elves, yeah, them Divine twins looked nothing like that.” Pictures were old, black and white, sketches too. “Realms were unstable back during World War One, Ceinwyn said . . . Guild must’ve been the ones who claimed the bodies.”
Wish I found this on day one, would’ve enjoyed it a lot more back then. Now . . . don’t do me much good.
Back the plastic portfolio went.
Second shelf had a box. I pulled it out and opened it.
“That motherfucker,” I growled as I pulled out an Elven Blade. Massey said only the Welfs and Roots had one still. Yet here was another . . . Wait a sec . . . it’s not another. It looks exactly like the one Poug gave me because . . . Did that motherfucker Massey do to me what I’m thinking about doing to Paine? Did that motherfucker trade my Elven Blade out for a fake when I was at my hearing?
But that meant the one Paine stole from me was a fake. Maybe he ain’t perfect after all.
I started chuckling at the idea of Paine testing it on a vampire and accidentally getting ate. “Ain’t that lucky, Price.”
I pocketed the real glass-metal dagger. Best as you can pocket a dagger. Ain’t a switchblade, let me tell you. Like a foot long. Not the kind you go to Subway for neither. Foot long length of glass-metal. Had it in Annie once and it almost killed her. Wonder if it might have worked on those Divines snooping around? Guess I have to save that test for another day. ‘Nother day I hope never comes.
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 57