How To Avoid Death On A Daily Basis: Book Three

by V. Moody

  All four of my original party bowed their heads as they took collective responsibility.

  Claire slowly inched towards Jenny. She didn’t make eye contact and her voice was low and mumbly. “Sorry, Jenny. I know I was out of order and there’s no excuse for how I acted, but—”

  Sure, there’s no excuse, but… Classic.

  “—the truth is after you spend as much time with Colin as we have, he starts rubbing off on you.”

  Wait a minute…

  “Snapping and lashing out at people feels like the normal thing to do. I didn’t even think about what I was saying, I was all wrapped up in myself, just like him.”

  How did this become my fault?

  “The truth is...” Tears fell from Claire’s eyes. “I was scared I’d led everyone to their deaths and I just wanted to blame someone else, the way Colin would.”

  And what do you think you’re doing right now?

  “I... I need help. I know that. If I start acting like him again, please punch me in the face.”

  “I understand,” said Jenny. She put her arms around Claire and they hugged tightly. The others swarmed around them, joining in with mumbled apologies and promises to never doubt each other again, blah, blah, blah. A beautiful moment. For them.

  I looked over at God who was wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

  Where were my hugs and kisses? I was the one who came all the way down here to get them out, and what did I receive? The blame. I had a good mind to lead them out to the bridge and push the lot of them into the Underland Sea. Then we could rename it the Sea of Ingrates.

  The brave thing to do was send the others away and deal with the carpenter’s by myself. The carpenters weren’t looking for them, they were looking for me.

  The smart thing to do was send the others away and deal with the carpenters by myself without The Undependables getting under my feet and accidentally shooting me in the back seven or eight times.

  But I wasn’t feeling courageous or clever. I was feeling kind of… spiteful.

  “Well, I’m really happy you were all able to forgive each other for being massive idiots, very magnanimous of you, but I’m afraid it won’t be a simple matter of going back to the inn and celebrating all night with sex and blowjobs, even though I’m sure that’s what you all deserve. The Carpenter’s Guild has decided they don’t like their ceremonial dagger being stolen, so they’re swarming the Sheaf looking for you. And in case you’re thinking, Oh, they’re only carpenters, there aren’t any carpenters in the Carpenter’s Guild, it’s the name used by the Assassin’s Guild to keep a low profile.”

  Concerned I was rubbing off on them? They should be so lucky. If they wanted something to worry about, I was only too happy to oblige.

  I gave God a hard stare to make sure he kept his mouth shut.

  “But we didn’t take the dagger,” said Maurice.

  “It never even left the Treasury,” added Claire.

  “I expect they want to make an example of you. Assassin’s aren’t generally known for their relaxed attitude to being fucked with.”

  Were they actually assassins? Probably not. More like thugs for hire and utility goons of various sorts. Assassins just sounded scarier.

  “So, we have to fight our way out of here?” said Maurice.

  “That’s right. Eight floors of relentless battling to survive. Ready?”

  There was a collective gulp. The five of them looked nervous and apprehensive. No more bonding and fluffing each other’s egos. No more touchy-feely bullshit. Fear, insecurity, despair. Honest emotions you could count on.

  God led us back across the bridge. They were dragging their feet a bit and I had to shout at them to hurry up a couple of times, but I managed to not shove anyone into the drink. Well done me.

  “It’s been very nice meeting you all,” said God as we stood back in the passageway outside his room. “Do come back and visit, if you can.”

  “Sure you won’t come with us?” I asked him. “People might leave us alone if you’re with us.”

  “Ah, not right now. Have a lot of tidying up to do.” The door came slamming down.

  Can’t say I blamed him. Maybe we should have stayed in there with him and waited for things to calm down, but somehow I doubted we’d be allowed to. One way or another we were going to have to get to Gullen.

  “Right,” I said to the others. “Let’s try not to die on the way out. And remember, I did just rescue you bunch of clowns, so if you spot an archer trying to pick me off, feel free to throw yourselves in front of me to take the hit.” Yeah, fat chance.

  They nodded and drew their weapons. Serious faces and determined expressions surrounded me.

  And then, Maurice took out a helmet I hadn’t seen before. No, not a helmet, more like a mask. Or a cowl. Batman was back.

  “What the fuck, Maurice?”

  It was much more intricate than the one he used to have attached to his onesie. He’d clearly had it made to order, with slits in the side to accommodate his glasses.

  “Metal plating.” He knocked on the side of his head, creating a dull, metallic sound.

  Fair enough. If he wanted extra protection for his head, reinforced head gear made sense. I wasn’t sure how the bat ears helped, though.

  Maurice turned to Claire and gave her a look. Claire seemed to be pretending she hadn’t seen it. He nudged her. She ignored him. He nudged her harder and she reluctantly reached into her bag and pulled out a mask of her own.

  It was black, but shinier than Maurice’s, with white stitching and little ears. Cat ears. It was a copy of Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman mask from Batman Returns.

  She put it on.

  Looking at the two of them, a thought occurred to me. A very disturbing thought.

  “You two have sex in those, don’t you?”

  Claire’s face flushed a deep red while Maurice grinned like The Joker.

  “Jesus. I hope you wiped them down.” I turned to the others. “Any S&M fetish gear you lot want to put on? No? Okay then. We have eight floors to get through, each floor is going to be full of hostile killers with only one thought in mind—taking us down. Our only hope is to kill them before they kill us. Aim weapons at the vital points—eyes and balls—and if you lose your weapon... Hai-ya!” I struck the air with the edge of my palm. “Karate chop.”

  Claire grabbed the front of her mask and slowly pulled it off. “We aren’t going to fight our way out are we?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “We’d last about ten seconds.”

  Their faces were a mixture of relief and confusion.

  “We’re going with Plan B.”

  “I get the feeling we aren’t going to like Plan B, either” said Maurice.

  “No one likes Plan B. That’s why it’s called Plan B. Time to go.”

  They stayed close behind me as we went up to the seventh floor. I didn’t know if the carpenters had figured out where we were yet, but I was hopeful we could make it up one flight of stairs without dying.

  We must have looked pretty odd sliding along the wall, trying to see if anyone was coming down as we went up, but we got to the seventh floor without encountering any large men with exaggerated shoulders. I led them off the staircase and down the hallway

  We passed a couple of doors and a few people, none of whom paid us any attention. We got to a junction where four corridors met and I opened the map Kizwat had drawn for me before we’d arrived at the Sheaf. He had been here enough times to know the rough layout, and I only needed to know the location of one place.

  It didn’t take long to get to our destination. We all stood outside the beautiful mahogany doors. The plaque next to it said:

  The Carpenter’s Guild

  Because Wood Works

  30. Diplomatic Immunity

  “Aren’t they the ones who are after us?” asked Claire.

  We were in an empty corridor, all bunched up in front of the door to the Carpenter’s Guild, with no one keen to go in.


  “Yes. Most of them will be out looking for us, so chances are there’ll only be a few of them in here. If we can get to their boss, maybe we can sort this without having to fight.”

  Claire’s eyes narrowed as she processed my logic. She looked over at the others who didn’t exactly brim with enthusiasm either.

  “One sec,” said Claire, and they all huddled together. Intense discussions followed, but in whispers I couldn’t hear. If I had a watch, I would have looked at it impatiently.

  “Okay,” said Claire. “We don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Mm hmm,” I said. “Who gives a fuck? You’re the guys who went on a zero-risk mission and ended up on death row. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s probably a brilliant idea.” I was a little irritated.

  “We’re not trying to tell you what to do, but even we might have some suggestions worth considering, once in a while,”said Claire, defiantly sticking her chin out.

  “Like what?” I was genuinely curious, for the comedy value. My sudden interest in what she had in mind seemed to throw her.

  “Well…” She spun around and reconvened the UN Insecurity Council.

  “Okay, enough,” I said. They all paused in their deliberations to look at me. “If we managed to somehow get out of this alive—I know it’s a big if—but assuming we did, I had planned to dissolve our band of merry adventurers. Quit while we’re ahead. But it’s pretty obvious you lot have reached a point where you have the confidence to make your own decisions and do things your own way. Which is great. So, why don’t we just end it right now? I’ll go in here and deal with the carpenters, you lot make your way to the surface and then go live a life devoid of common sense. I have no doubt that somehow you’ll make it work.”

  “But what about the men looking for us?” said Maurice.

  “The truth is, they aren’t looking for you, they’re looking for me. I’m the one they want. Go, try not to get into too much trouble, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. Better than fine, probably far in the future, when you’re walking down a street, with your kids and your happiness and your double chins from eating too many cream cakes in your mansion, you might see me begging in the street, one leg missing and an eye patch. Just drop a couple of coins in my wooden bowl and pretend you don’t recognise me, and you can consider us quits.”

  They all stared at me. Flossie raised her hand.

  “Yes, Flossie?”

  “How did you lose the leg.”

  It was a fair question. Inane, but fair.

  “A dragon ate it. There was a princess who promised me half her kingdom if I saved her, but after I killed the dragon, she changed her mind. And before you ask, the eye’s fine, I just wear an eye patch to impress the other beggars.”

  “Don’t you think you should stop this,” said Jenny.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “No,” said Jenny, “I mean stop feeling sorry for yourself. This idea you have that the world is against you and nothing ever works out in your favour, it’s getting a bit old.”

  I didn’t really know how to respond to that. It was like the teacher announcing to the class you’d wet yourself. Which never happened to me, of course. Mrs Maxwell, Class 2B. Bitch.

  “You’re probably right,” I said. “It’s hard to get up in the mornings without at least one slice of self-pity and a hot cup of bitterness, but I’ll try. Assuming I don’t die in here, first.”

  “Colin, just stop.” Jenny sounded angry. “You’re our leader. We don’t follow you because there’s no other choice, we follow you because we believe in you.”

  I looked at Jenny like she might be having some kind of breakdown. The others were looking at her in much the same way.

  “Do you really think if some smooth, good-looking smart-arse came along and offered us the chance to team up with him and his friends, we’d all jump at the chance and leave you behind?”

  “Yes!” I said.”That’s exactly what you’d do. Right?”

  The others made non-committal head bobs. I don’t think they knew which answer they were supposed to give.

  “And I wouldn’t blame you.”

  “No” said Jenny very firmly. “We wouldn’t do that. Right?”

  She got the same indecisive head-bobbing reaction.

  “You’re the leader,” she insisted. “You can’t just offer suggestions and then say, “But, hey, do what you want.’ You need to be firm. With all of us. When you give us an order, you should expect us to do it. And if we don’t, then punish us.”

  The irritation I felt a few moments ago had gone, to be replaced by mild confusion. Not that I didn’t agree with what she was saying, but why was she giving this speech? And why so aggressively? It was like someone offering their surrender by shoving a white flag down your throat.

  “Discipline doesn’t appear out of thin air. You have to enforce it. Especially early on.” She turned to the others who looked horrified by what she was saying. “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going to follow him to the end. Even if that’s five minutes from now.”

  I’d say the general atmosphere was one of ‘Forget the off button, take out her batteries!’

  “Do you really think this will work?” said Claire. It wasn’t so much a question as a stunned request for confirmation.

  Jenny shrugged. “Even if we go in fully committed, success isn’t guaranteed. But if we do this half-hearted, I think we’ll definitely fail. All I know is that only he would think to come here when anyone else would try to get as far away as possible. And that sort of insane thinking has saved my life more than once. He is the leader, even if he doesn’t believe it.”

  Claire looked at Maurice who looked at Dudley who looked at Flossie who looked at Claire. They could have quite easily kept this going for a couple of hours.

  “Okay,” I said. “You guys take a vote or form a caucus or whatever and let me know.” I pushed the door open and walked into the guild office. A quick death had started to seem quite appealing.

  Inside, there was a large desk that took up half the room, behind which sat a small woman with a lot of hair. I mean big hair, piled up high and wide. It was a wonder she didn’t tip over.

  “Yes?” She sounded like she had better things to do, even though she was just sitting there.

  I looked around the room. It was fairly large and nicely designed—lots of wood panelling as you’d expect in the Carpenter’s Guild—but it was hard to miss the main feature, which were two enormous men, holding spears, standing either side of large double doors.

  “Ah, hello.” My mind was suddenly blank. Why had I thought this was good idea again?

  There was a rush of air behind me as the door opened and the rest of my party joined me. Had anything been resolved? Probably not. If we did get out of here alive, I still expected them to go off to do their own thing. But I did feel strangely comforted by having them there.

  “Is the Guildmaster available?” I asked the secretary.

  She gave me a curious look, like she was deciding whether or not to press the button under her desk that would drop us into a shark tank. She looked over at the men by the door, who didn’t move or react in any way. If this was a real carpentry guild, I might have suspected they were carved out of wood.

  “She’s very busy. What’s this in relation to?”

  The Guildmaster was a woman. I had assumed it was a man because either it was statistically more likely for the person running a violent criminal organisation in a pre-industrial society to be male, or I’m a sexist twat. Feel free to apply your own preconceptions.

  “It’s, um, a contract for the removal of some… trees.”

  “I think you want the Lumberjack Guild.”

  I seemed to have chosen the wrong metaphor.

  The secretary stared at me. She had a serious face and her outfit was all business. A fitted black jacket with large shoulder pads like an 80s power suit.

  I looked over at the men
by the door. Their exaggerated shoulders and pinched waists also had an 80s feel to them.

  “The Guildmaster, she isn’t by any chance a Visitor, is she?”

  The secretary narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. Why?”

  “So are we!” My voice suddenly got high-pitched with excitement. I calmed myself. Just because she was a Visitor didn’t mean she wouldn’t want to kill us. “Could you tell her we’d like to meet her. We have lots of news from back home. I’m sure she’d be interested.”