Gently and carefully, Scrornuck lifted the planks. “Aha—a tag."
Jape bent over to read the faded writing. "Shipment for P. McGinn. Destination: Courtyard A, Personal Residence (Executive Palace). Origin: Office B36, Alpine Lake Winter Sports Complex."
"They have ski slopes here?"
"Sounds like they were working on them. Contents: Personal Effects. Crate 8 of 17. Ship date September 7, 2133C.E." Jape stroked his chin thoughtfully. “That's less than a week before UniFlag abandoned the project."
"What is all this stuff?” Nalia asked, taking her eyes off the bodies and joining Jape and Scrornuck.
"Clues,” Scrornuck said. “We've got a mystery on our hands."
"Several mysteries.” Jape counted them off on the fingers of his left hand. “What was that ball? Who is Lord Draggott and why does he want it? Who's this McGinn character? And what's any of this got to do with saving the world from—” He stopped, staring at the ring on the finger he'd just raised. The green jewel, so bright it seemed to glow, had a decidedly yellowish tinge. “Uh-oh, time to get to work.” He spread his softscroll atop the platform. “First step to solving any mystery is research. Let's see what's in the archives.” Tapping the buttons quickly, he entered a series of requests for information relating to McGinn, Draggott, Orb, Alpine Lake and Winter Sports Complex.
All three watched the scroll, waiting expectantly for an answer. Scrornuck whistled, Jape tapped his foot, Nalia looked uneasily back toward the bodies, which were beginning to attract flies. Finally the scroll made a soft beep. Jape sighed, rolled up the scroll and slipped it into a pocket of his cape. “It'll take them a day or two to find the records. Let's go; we won't learn anything else here."
They backtracked through the dingy corridors, Scrornuck taking the lead and carefully exploring each stretch of passageway before allowing Jape and Nalia to follow. He met no opposition. It appeared the soldiers had fled.
"I wonder about this Captain,” Jape said. “Is this a military organization? What were they doing here?"
"I heard them say they were supposed to capture you and me,” Nalia said.
"When did you hear that?"
"Just before they rushed us."
"What about me?” Scrornuck asked. “Did they say anything?"
"Just to dispose of you quickly."
"Boy, that's getting old,” he said with mock indignation. “It's always ‘capture the short guy, don't hurt the girl, and oh yeah, kill the big guy.’ I'm always the afterthought. Just once I'd like to be the one they want."
"Be careful what you wish for,” Jape warned. “You might get it."
They walked a bit further, still encountering no sign of opposition. “That Orb thing is going to be trouble, you know,” Scrornuck predicted. “I can feel it."
Jape chuckled. “You're just cranky because it doesn't like you."
"Why me, anyway?” Scrornuck looked at Nalia. “You can stick your arms in it up to the elbow without so much as a tingle."
"What?” she said. “I never touched it."
"I didn't see her...” Jape said.
"You were staring at her like a cow in a trance!"
"I was? When?"
"In the courtyard, just before those soldiers showed up.” Scrornuck frowned. “Come to think of it, a lot of strange stuff happened then. The birds weren't chirping, and I didn't hear the soldiers making noise in the corridor. It was dead silent, almost like time had stopped until I pulled her out."
"I don't remember any of that,” Jape said.
"Me neither,” Nalia added.
"Well, I know what I saw!” Scrornuck kicked at the debris on the floor, spattering the walls ahead with mud. “Know what I felt, too.” He looked at his hands again, certain he'd remember for the rest of his life just how much touching that thing had hurt.
In short order they emerged from the basement and entered the Palace's sunlit entry hall. “Still no sign of the troops,” Jape said. “I told you they'd be high-tailing it for home.” Kicking mud from their shoes, they strode through the remains of the door into the late-afternoon sunshine. “It is sure a beautiful day..."
Scrunch-scrunch. Scrornuck spun about and saw three archers balanced atop the second floor facade. He practically threw Jape and Nalia away from the building as the soldiers loosed their arrows, striking both of his shoulders and the center of his chest. His armored jacket stopped the arrows, but they still hit with the force of hard punches.
As the archers reached for fresh arrows, Scrornuck drew his sword. With two great swings he cut through the support beams on either side of the doorway. The facade came down, leaving the soldiers lying dazed in a pile of rotted wood and plastic foam. “Now,” he said, “I've got some questions for you."
There was a sudden crack. The soldiers could do little more than scream as a twenty-foot section of the roof caved in on them. When the dust settled, one arm and one leg, motionless, were all that protruded from the rubble.
"Shit,” Scrornuck muttered. He turned to Jape and Nalia, and found himself watching one side of a conversation. She stared into the Ranger's eyes, and he spoke, seemingly in response to questions only he could hear. “After a while you get used to it.” A few seconds of silence. “They're not playing by the rules.” A few more seconds, in which Nalia's eyes flicked to the pile of debris for an instant. “Trust me; you'll never be in a safer place than you are right now."
It's one of those days, Scrornuck thought. He took out his prayer book, knelt before the pile of debris and for the second time today whispered his prayer. After the “amen,” he remained kneeling for a while, working through the day's math. He wasn't very good at multiplication, terrible at division and hopeless around fractions, but he was pretty good at counting—and by his count there were at least three soldiers left. With a soft sigh, he bookmarked the prayer. He had a feeling he'd be needing this page again.
* * * *
The three moved briskly along the trail as the afternoon sun set and a gloomy twilight filled the forest. They'd be arriving at their camp well after dark.
"Good news, bad news,” Jape said philosophically. “We found the Orb, that other telepathic thing, but Lord Draggott's soldiers took it.” He held up his left hand and gazed into the purple ring. “We found it once, we can find it again.” He stopped. “That's odd.” He held his hand higher, twisted it in different ways. “That's very odd.” He waved his hands around and turned in a slow circle. “No matter which way I turn it, the reading's exactly the same.” He lowered his hands. “It's as though the field were all around us.” He looked suspiciously at Nalia and examined his blue ring. It brightened when facing her and dimmed as he moved his hand away. “This one still works.” But the purple ring remained unchanged, a dull glow that was possibly a little brighter than it had been in the morning. “Well, if the instrument won't tell us where it is, we'll have to find it some other way."
A little further into the woods, Scrornuck slowed down and finally stopped.
"Come along, Mister Saughblade,” Jape called cheerfully, “duty calls!"
"In a minute,” Scrornuck said. “Nature's calling, and I think she's calling louder.” He stepped off the trail. “Duty can wait.” He turned away from Jape and Nalia, lifted his kilt, threw back his head and sang:
I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!
I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!
After all these long hard miles
I know my bladder surely smiles
'Cause I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!
"That's pretty tacky,” Nalia said.
"Yeah,” Scrornuck admitted, “the rhymes are really lame."
"That's not what I meant. Couldn't you at least go behind a tree to do that?"
"Why?"
"So half the world doesn't see you!"
"I'm facing the other way."
"I know what you're doing!"
"You'd know what I was doing if I went behind
a tree."
"It's just what people do!"
"Well, how was I supposed to know?"
"Everybody knows..."
"If you're expecting Mister Saughblade to know the rules of ‘civilized’ behavior,” Jape interrupted, “I'm afraid you've got a disappointment coming."
Nalia laughed, for the first time since they'd left the Palace. “He probably doesn't know which fork to use for the appetizer, either."
Scrornuck stood for a moment, smoothing the aprons of his kilt, before slowly turning to face Jape and Nalia. His expression was deadly serious. “Jape,” he whispered, “you and Nalia stay here. Make some noise."
Jape nodded silently, and then stepped off the trail himself. A few seconds later the sound of splashing water again filled the air. As Nalia stood by, exasperated, Scrornuck stepped away from the trail and crept forward, straining his hearing to the limit. He'd been hearing sounds that didn't come from birds or insects, and he knew that these woods, where the trees met overhead and formed a sort of tunnel over the trail, would be the perfect place for an ambush. There—he heard a rustling sound, ahead and to the right, followed by a soft metallic clink.
He moved slowly forward, staying several feet from the trail, and he heard the sound again. This time he could locate it, about fifty feet down the trail and overhead.
As Jape and Nalia continued rather loudly debating the etiquette of outdoor potty stops, Scrornuck cautiously and silently advanced. He heard breathing, rushed and nervous, in the trees directly above. There were two people up there, maybe three. He took out his sword and wiggled his toes just so.
"Howdy, boys,” he called as he landed on a branch between three black-clad soldiers. “Waiting for someone?” He squeezed Ol’ Red's grip with his left hand, and a few feet of the fiber-blade appeared, edges glowing just enough for him to make out their eyes and the blades of their swords.
After a moment's panic, the three soldiers attacked. Scrornuck fought gently, wanting to take at least one of them alive for questioning. He found this difficult in the darkness, as the soldiers’ black uniforms combined with the weak moonlight to make them nearly invisible. After about a minute, he had received a couple of minor wounds and found himself backed up against the trunk of the tree. Reluctantly, he abandoned his plans. Ol’ Red's blade flashed, there were a few muffled noises of the kind people make while drawing a pre-scream breath, and three bodies fell to the ground.
Scrornuck dropped to the trail, and yet again took out his prayer book, opening it to the marked page. Jape slowly circled the bodies, probing them with his toes. Nalia, pale and holding a hand over her mouth, stared at Jape. He shrugged and said, simply, “After a while—"
"—you get used to it,” she finished softly. “I don't think I want to."
Scrornuck said his “amen” and put the prayer book away. “Let's see who these guys were,” Jape said, holding up one hand to kindle a small ball of light. Scrornuck gently removed the helmet from a corpse. In the pale light of Jape's lamp, he recognized the man as a member of the gang that had attacked Nalia in the bar. “Another of our special friends."
The helmet had cracked down the middle when the soldier hit the ground. “Not very sturdy,” Scrornuck said, pulling on either side of the helmet and easily splitting it in half. He removed the breastplate from the least bloody corpse, and tore it in half with little effort.
"Recognize this?” Jape asked, handing Nalia the clean half of the breastplate.
She ran her finger along the shiny black surface, tracing the outline of Spafu's wing. “I can't recall seeing anybody wear armor like this. Hardly anybody wears armor at all, really, just kids who are learning to duel, and they wear heavy stuff made of metal. This is different. It's so smooth..."
"I think it's injection-molded polystyrene."
"Poly-what? Is that some kind of magic?"
"Some people say it's a ‘magical’ material..."
"Cheap plastic,” Scrornuck said derisively.
"But the ‘magic’ part refers to its being inexpensive and easy to mold,” Jape finished. “Hmm...” He looked more closely at the image of Spafu molded into the armor. “Some kind of charm, maybe a defense against magical weapons?"
"Didn't do him much good,” Scrornuck said.
"The Mayoral Guards have dress uniforms with this image on them,” she said thoughtfully, “but it's not armor, it's just sewn into the cloth, and they only wear them on really special occasions."
"Well, for now it's one more mystery,” Jape said. “Maybe it'll make sense later."
With a deep sigh, Scrornuck started down the trail, Jape and Nalia hurrying to keep up.
"Something bothering you?” Jape asked softly.
"Those guys never stood a chance."
"Against you, who does?” Jape patted Scrornuck's shoulder. “You were just doing your job."
"I thought this was a peaceful place."
"So did I. It appears that some people around here don't like us."
"Just once, I'd like to go someplace where everybody does."
"That makes two of us,” Jape said.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six
"Tell Me a Story"
Nalia paced around the campfire. “I've lived nineteen years in this town, I've gotten in my share of duels and fights, but I've never even heard of anybody killing anybody—until you got here!” She pointed her finger squarely at Scrornuck. “Now there's bodies falling from the trees, people shooting arrows at us...” She stopped, quivering with anger. “By Spafu's tail, I should turn you in the second we get back to town!” She jabbed her finger at him again. “You said you were the good guy, you said I could trust you. Hah!” With that, she stalked off toward her tent.
Scrornuck slowly stopped chewing on his leather-like hunk of preserved survival rations. Nalia's outburst surprised him, for she hadn't said much of anything since the ambush in the forest. But he saw her point: in her experience, people followed a code that strictly limited violence, and he'd shattered that code into a million pieces. True, he'd done it in their defense, but nonetheless he'd killed eight people today.
"Nalia, you're right,” Jape said in a soft voice. “I owe you an explanation.” She stopped, and slowly turned to face the fire. “There is much I haven't told you,” he continued, “because I feared you wouldn't believe me. You were rather skeptical about the mind reading."
"I still am,” she said. But she took a few steps toward him.
"I'm afraid this will make mind reading sound positively ordinary."
"Great, just great.” She came to the fire and stood silently for a moment before sitting down with an exasperated sigh. “Oh, hell, go ahead and tell me. I don't have anywhere to go tonight. But I don't promise to believe you."
"Very well,” Jape said. “You already know Mister Saughblade and I aren't from Taupeaquaah."
"No shit?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I hadn't noticed."
"Well, we're not from Khansous, either.” He took a deep breath. “In fact, we're not from this world at all."
"What?” Nalia's eyebrows went up, way up.
"I know this sounds strange, but there are over two thousand different worlds. I'm from one, Mister Saughblade is from another, and yours is another still."
"Aw, crap!” Nalia stood. “Mind reading, other worlds—what a load of bull!” She stood up and stared down at Jape. “Tell you what: if there are really two thousand worlds, prove it! Take me to another one, right now!"
Jape glanced at a gadget that looked a lot like an oversized pocket watch hanging from his belt. “Sorry, but I can't do that from here, at least not right now."
"I knew it! Bullshit, bullshit, and more bullshit!” she said, storming off toward her tent. “Let me tell you something, Mister Ranger,” she called over her shoulder. “There's exactly one world, and it's this one, right here under our feet!” She stomped her foot hard for emphasis, raising a small cloud of dust. “And you can tell your
bodyguard we have rules against killing people!"
Jape watched helplessly as Nalia crawled into her tent and yanked the flap shut. Slowly, he raised his left hand and looked at the jewel in the largest ring. It now glowed more yellow than green. “Less than twelve days,” he said, and wearily trudged to his own tent.
With a sigh, Scrornuck picked up his blanket, took some supplies from the pack, and walked over to the stream. Wrapped in the old plaid, he leaned against a tree and dangled his bare feet in the cool water as he worked. Cleaning the kilt was easy: he simply swished it in the stream and hung it from a tree branch to dry. Most of the blood washed out, and what didn't blended in with the brown-splotches-on-red pattern. The wound in his side required only a good washing in the clear spring water, followed by some antiseptic goo and a bandage from the first-aid kit. Thanks to the magical stuff in the goo, it would heal in four or five days. The shirt, however, was hopeless. The rip was much too big to fix, and even a long soak in the stream wasn't removing the blood. Sheeyit, he thought, this was one of my favorites.
A couple of fat fish nibbled at his feet. He wished he'd seen them before breaking out the leathery survival crap. Well, there's always breakfast.
After scrubbing the last of the dried blood from his side, he slipped into an open-collared Jacobite shirt that was long enough to prevent public indecency if he didn't bend over too far, gathered up his gear and strolled back to the fire. With a sigh, he tossed his ruined shirt onto the coals. It sizzled, steamed, and eventually consented to burn.
The light in Jape's tent went out, and a minute later a steady buzz-saw snoring filled the air. Far away, a lone coyote howled, seemingly in response. With one last thought about Jape and Nalia, Scrornuck curled up in his plaid blanket and fell into a light, observant sleep.
In the wee hours he arose to answer the call of nature, and also found that his kilt had dried. As he fastened the garment around his waist, he heard a noise from Nalia's tent. She quietly slipped out, looked around, and started walking in the general direction of the trail that led toward Taupeaquaah. Stifling a sigh, he slipped on his boots and followed.
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