The Foul Mouth and the Troubled Boomworm (The King Henry Tapes)

by Raley, Richard

  I got up from the bleachers and headed to Welf. Guy was biting his fingernails and mumbling to himself. “Need a talk.”

  “Now?”

  “Busy?”

  He sighed and glared some, but still motioned for me to walk outside of the curtains. When we walked outside some boos went up from the students who could see us. “No one’s on our side, Foul Mouth, all because of you.”

  “Didn’t see you complaining when we got to skip the Eriksons.”

  “We would have beaten them straight up.”

  “Probably, but beating them toilet up was a hell lot more satisfying.”

  “How did you do it?”

  I snorted contempt at the idea I’d give up any secret to him. “Listen, yesterday I had a run in with the Three Queens.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be alone.”

  “I was.”

  “How are you still standing then?”

  “Ceinwyn saved me.”

  “Like always,” Welf sneered. He’d never forgiven her for standing aside as I knocked him out that first time we met.

  “But before she did . . . the Three Queens made me an offer. If I throw the match they’ll get you expelled for me.”

  Welf’s mouth opened in shock.

  “So . . .” I continued, “not like I took them up on the offer, but you should probably watch your back today. They want you more than they want anyone else.”

  “Thanks,” Welf mumbled.

  “Yeah . . . this whole getting to go to the dance with Boomworm thing is making me extra generous,” I needled him, before walking back inside the staging area.

  Welf was left to fume alone.

  [CLICK]

  Our teams met at what was considered the front of the Mound, at the base of the hill next to the Field.

  Annoyed at all the buildup yet, kiddies?

  I know my class was.

  The moment you exit that staging area for the first time in the match it all goes away. All the nerves, whatever you have. Asa’d been puking and heaving for five minutes straight but now she stood tall, face a mask of grim determination. Lot on the line. We won this and we could brag about it for the rest of our stay at the Asylum. Rest of our lives too I guess. Fucking greatness. Fucking legendary.

  We lined up, ten to fifteen feet from Class ’07. Black colored team versus white colored team. In the snow, we looked like we had serious dandruff problems. Blackjacks and the Three Queens kept scowling at little pinprick circles of wetness as the snow melted on theirs.

  The Learning Council appeared next from Root’s hideaway, lined up to the right of both teams, off to the way. Mister Gullick gave a smile for Naomi, Granddad Erikson gave a glare for me. I also got a thumbs-up from Russell Quilt, who wasn’t a voting member of the Council but sat in on the meetings as Head of Testing. Ceinwyn was there as well, though she gave no sign one way or the other as to who she rooted for.

  All the Ultra teachers were there save for one: Plutarch. I wouldn’t meet him until he took over my education in Pent. That’s the way he wanted it.

  Root left the line, dressed in a suit and a winter coat. Guy could have passed as an attorney or banker. “Thank you all for coming today. This Winter War has hardly been regular, but it has been my honor to serve as Gamemaster for this year.” Polite applause from the crowd. Hard to be nice to a guy who sounded so cold and detached. “The Dean now has a short message before we begin.”

  Maudette Lynch, the Lady of the Lake herself, waddled her way up to Root and the microphone. She was so bundled in clothes she looked like a maroon penguin. Dress, sweater, shawl, coat, hat, ear muffs. She gave the watching crowd a wave and the applause for her was more than polite. “Honored guests, teachers, students,” she began in her creaky voice, “this Winter War has been a treat for this old lady, to see such inventiveness from her students! I know feelings are inflamed now, I know losing teams are smarting over the sting, but . . . for me, what a treat!

  “There will be students on each team who you dislike from your personal interaction with them and students you consider friends as well, students you look up to, and students you envy. For me, I love them all, for I remember their faces when they stepped off that bus, the fear, the uncertainty, and I see their faces now . . . so at home with our lovely school.

  “Remember that when you cheer or boo today that this event is not just about the children standing up here with us but you as well. This is about our Institution. This is us showing the world what we can accomplish with our powers unhindered by worry of a world which might not understand. Here, on these grounds, on this bit of dirt behind me, we glorify our ability to take off our masks and walk free among our peers.”

  She paused to take out a piece of paper and a pair of glasses. Then it was through a list of people at the school who attended, thanking them for coming to watch. Guild Master Massie, Frederick von Welf and Moira von Welf, etc and so forth. At the end of the list was more clapping. The student body seemed to be getting into the moment, if not for us then for them being part of something historic.

  Root took the microphone back from the Lady and helped her return to the Council. “Now we move on to the introduction of the teams, the coin-flip, the handshaking of captains, and the unveiling of the field of play.” Root smirked to himself over the last bit.

  Douchebag is petty as fuck. Will be some crazy shit behind those curtains . . . what’s he done to my Mound? My favorite bench ain’t back where it’s supposed to be when this is all over I’m going to be pissed!

  Good thing dragons are extinct or Root would have one chained next to the winning button.

  The naming of the teams was a video package played over the big screens. Class ’09 was first up, spending about ten to twenty seconds on each of us. It started with a headshot and our name, plus a kill-to-death ratio like some video game. After that followed a brief shot or two of our highlights during this Winter War. Reaction was more mixed than I expected. Pocket even got a loud cheer when they showed him pressing the final button to win our first match. So did Val for her taking out Sabine. Hope and Welf got booed. I got laugher of all things, since vengeful Root had made my highlights be me getting throw by Sabine into the pond and then Leo kicking me in the balls.

  I’ll get that bastard one day.

  The Blackjacks and the Three Queens lost their hero status almost instantly when the first Blackjack was shown picking up a Single and throwing the poor kid into a tree. It only became worse. Punching kids in the face instead of the vest. Stomping on feet and ankles. By the time the Three Queens showed up there was outright yelling, cursing, and a bunch of pissed off students.

  There are your heroes. Can’t stomach them? Pancakes don’t look so bad now, do they?

  “Captains please come forward with your Second and Third.”

  To no surprise Catherine Hayes was followed out by Teresa and Mary. But to my shock Welf pointed to Estefan and then me. “You have a stroke or something? And I don’t mean the kind where Hope touches your cock.”

  Welf just sighed out some discontent. “Please piss them off as much as you do me, Foul Mouth.”

  If anything, Root was more disgusted by my appearance than the Three Queens were. Teresa mouthed ‘burn you soon’ at me. Mary mouthed ‘pee-hole trick’ at me. Catherine just smirked, staring at something no one could see but her.

  “Sup bitches,” I greeted them, “hump any tile counters since we talked last, Mary?”

  “He’s so mine to kick around,” Mary giggled without taking her eyes off me.

  “Heinrich,” Root whispered painfully, “while I understand the tactics of it, can you please think of my blood-pressure the next time you chose your Third?”

  “Will try, sir,” Welf said, giving Root a respectful bow.

  “Good . . .” Root pulled a coin out of his coat pocket. He also must have flicked a switch since his voice was suddenly pumped out for everyone to hear. “On one side of this coin is the emblem of the Ultra, on the other
side is the school motto in Latin. Class ’09 goes into this game as the lower ranked seed, so their captain will call the toss. He will call ‘emblem’ or ‘motto’ not ‘heads’ or ‘tails’. Do you all understand?”

  We nodded.

  Fate don’t fuck me now.

  Root glanced at Welf and then tossed the coin.

  “Emblem.”

  The coin landed on the snow without bouncing at all.

  Motto.

  Fuck you, you cruel bitch.

  “Class ’07 wins the toss,” Root called out. The crowd couldn’t decide if they liked this or not. From what I could tell we had the other Ultras, the parents, and the bigwigs with us. Three Queens had the Intra teams, especially the Eagles. The non-competing Intras were split.

  Not that the crowd will matter now that the coin-toss fucked us over.

  “Miss Hayes, will you attack or defend?” Root asked formally.

  Catherine Hayes smirked again. For such a hot chick she sure could pull off evil and cruel. “I won’t have it said we beat you losers due to a stupid coin-toss.”

  Whoa.

  “Attack.”

  Double Whoa.

  We probably should have been happy, but after we’d shaken hands and returned to our class Welf just looked like he’d had his balls chopped off. “This can’t be good.”

  “Stick to the plan,” Estefan whispered, “draw them in, use their aggression against them.”

  “The second game,” Welf gritted out, “they’re planning on knocking us out and then by the second game we’ll be picked off one by one. We could be playing right into it, we could sacrifice half our team if this goes against us!”

  “The runners are fast, they can outrun them. You planned this out.”

  Root cleared his throat to quiet two-thousand people having the same conversation about the surprise ‘attack’ pick by the Three Queens. “After watching the tapes of the first round and . . . the strange tactics of the second round . . . I thought our Mound in need of added difficulties and have changed the course to be—unique—in Winter War history. I think it a fitting battleground that these two teams richly deserve.”

  The huge curtains keeping the Mound from being seen dropped away.

  And . . .

  And . . .

  Holy fuckballs . . .

  [CLICK]

  “This is impossible!” Miranda complained.

  Cuz when didn’t she?

  “All things are possible, this is just going to be very difficult,” Raj politely disagreed.

  “How are we supposed to run in this?” Eva asked. “We’re sinking . . . and I think Jesus got a burn from when he slipped and touched the ash.”

  “More like a scald,” Jesus less politely disagreed. He snarled at the ash under our feet. “But seriously El Rey, Root’s screwed us. That rock over there, the holey one, those holes have metal tubes in them, what you bet they go flamethrower when Root presses a button?”

  “He hasn’t just screwed us,” I said, “he’s screwed the Three Queens too, they have to attack through this shit. Can you imagine trying Earth now? You’d have to be fucking crazy. I ain’t even that crazy, man.”

  Root hadn’t changed up the Mound completely. I’d been expecting maybe him dropping a tier, going for Shadow, Light, Electric, and Ice zones or something. But nope . . . still Fire, Air, Water, and Earth. Just . . . fucking times ten. Times one-hundred. X-Games Big Air bullshit going to get someone killed. He’d taken the elements and was showing them . . . corrupted. To the limit. On the edge of madness.

  On the edge of being put down.

  Water had geysers, sheer cliffs, rapids. Fire was nothing but ash, sucking you down, black volcanic rock, flames jumping from nowhere. Air . . . a gale, continual, you had to walk at a crouch and face constant changes of direction, always trying to knock you off your feet. Earth . . . impassable, all the trees dead, the brambles taken over, the ground broken, blocked by thorns. Paths cut through the thorns, just close enough so it would catch at your coat, so you’d have to slide through, but no one wanted anything to do with them.

  Which left three zones to compete on. And three different matches in one.

  Catherine Hayes had some grudge against Welf, no idea what it was, but that’s why this time he defended water. Mary O’Connell wanted me, which is why I was in Fire. Teresa had to settle for Estefan’s group in Air. Keep Catherine out of Air, her natural element, and Teresa out of Fire, her natural element, and Mary out of Water, her natural element. That had been the plan thrown together in the five seconds before Root called out our set up period.

  Now the pooling period.

  Tick tock.

  “Robin, why did we put you in the running group again?”

  Robin White, I don’t mention her a lot since we never saw eye to eye on a whole lot. She’s a Mormon from Utah and well . . . you can imagine with the words that come out of my mouth why we don’t see eye to eye. She was traditional, churchy, even in faunamancer colors—even in necromancer colors for the Winter War too. She was the only girl in skirts for the Winter War, and double extra-long, extra-thick, hide-those-evil-ankles skirts at that.

  She looked like she was about to shout out that ‘ladies don’t run!’ or something, but said, “I don’t know.”

  I glanced around my group of ten. “Malaya, you okay switching with her?”

  Also don’t mention Malaya much. She hangs out with Debra and Yvette a lot. Spectromancer, she’s very quiet and peaceful. Shorter than me actually, though not as tiny as Eva. She doesn’t like conflict and thinks the whole idea of the Winter War is stupid. “Why?” she asked.

  “Going to take them longer to run up here, think they might need a distraction or two. Eva can give one, you could too,” I explained my reasoning.

  She nodded but didn’t say anything, so I took it as a ‘yes’.

  Eva, Jesus, Malaya, Nizhoni, and Rick Brown all looked down at the ash ground. We stood just far enough up the Mound and the ash cloud was already just thick enough to feel alone from the crowd and Mary’s crew of Blackjacks waiting to launch on up here after us.

  Eva’s nose scrunched up.

  She knelt down and picked up a handful of ash.

  Then she smeared her face with it.

  When she looked up at me all I could see were eyes surrounded by grey skin. She grinned at my surprise and her teeth had never looked whiter. “Wish you thought of it?” she asked me and the others laughed, quick to reach down and do the same.

  “You are so damned hot right now.”

  She tsk me but did wink my way. “Now, now, Price, you’re with Boomworm now, if you try for any other girl then we’ll all have to gang up on you for punishment.”

  “Yeah, well, I like punishment.”

  Someone tapped my shoulder, so I turned around like a dumbass.

  The glee Miranda had as she threw a handful of ash in my face . . .

  [CLICK]

  Eva was first up the hill. Girl’s fast.

  Rick Brown next, then Jesus and Nizhoni.

  No sign of Malaya.

  Great executive decision, you fucktard. How many broken bones you figure she has?

  The Blackjacks barreled after them, running like some old school berserkers, naked with their balls flapping behind them, armored in nothing but blue paint. The Blackjacks were armored in nothing but red vests and white aeromancer colors looking dirty as hell.

  My ambush group crouched down in the ash, nice grouping of rocks on either side of us. Jesus figured anyone trying to climb the rocks would get barbecued, so . . . why not trust the hunch? Ash sure was hot enough without flames about. You had to shift from foot to foot every minute or else things might get smoky down there.

  The way we crouched hid our vests in our legs, made that bright red go away. Nothing to see of us but by the white of our eyes.

  “Going to beat you fucking bloody when you stop!” one of the Blackjacks yelled. Seven of them, just like it was supposed to be.


  There was Mary, kind of jogging after her boys, giggling over something.

  Really hope Malaya is okay.

  Eva was first past, Nizhoni and Rick next. Jesus stopped right next to me, turned, put his hands up.

  “One’s fighting!” a Blackjack hooted.

  Good bait job, Lord and Savior.

  “Kill him, boys!” Mary giggled after them. “Make him scream for me!”

  I waited a whole second as they got closer, the Blackjacks half-laughing and half-choking through the ash. Two of the Blackjacks had anima-projectors covering hands—we’d take them first. The rest looked corpusmancer or faunamancer. Big and rough.

  I still don’t completely understand the way the Three Queens work but I’m guessing Mary gets last pick between them. Means this should be the easiest of the three fights.

  Ya know . . . should be and all that . . .

  “Now!” I yelled and on either side of Jesus we stood up, five of us. Miranda, Raj, Athir, Robin, and me. Can’t say it was very imposing. Imagine if it had been Jason or something, guy would have looked huge? Raj and Athir are tall enough but skinny. Miranda . . . well, no one’s scared of firecrotch unless it’s naked. Robin . . . not really ever, unless she was knocking on your door trying to convert you. Me . . . okay, now, yeah, but still short and growing back then . . .

  Lucky us, we had the Mancy.

  “Miranda!” I yelled out again just as the Blackjacks saw us and came to a halt, not terrified but shocked by our sudden appearance from out of nowhere.

  “Now!” Miranda yelled back.

  I threw all my geo-anima into the ash, causing another explosion just like in the first match. Only this time I had Miranda with me and she threw in some aero-anima for the home team.

  It was like a bomb went off.

  Except without the fire.

  Just the dust.

  That aftermath you see on the news at night when they’re showing terrorist attacks, hopefully far away from the good ol’ US of A. Dust, so much dust it’s all you see, but what’s it like at its heart? Can’t see, can’t know . . . nothing but fear and imagination to go on.

  No heat in this heart, no real damage, no death. Just earth and air making a good team up. A blast of force, knocking down Blackjacks or sending them flying backwards.