[Constitution check vs Poison: Success]
“How lucky?” I wheezed.
The chairs dragged forward, bobbing along on their ropes, and drew the terrified boarox in closer. It made panicking snorting noises and pranced on its hooves while the driver pulled a long whip from a holster at his boot.
“Don’t!” I yelled at him. “They hunt by feel!”
The queen turned towards this newest source of vibrations, and the driver proceeded to ignore me and slash at the giant bug.
“Gerroff, bug! This’s the only boarox I got, you don’t get to eat ‘im!”
I saw the queen coil to strike, and, snarling at the driver in frustration, I pulled my dagger out of her back and slashed the lead rope, freeing the frightened boarox. The beast threw his long neck backwards, squealing through his tusks, and bolted, taking his cussing driver with him, whip and all.
Quick as a rattlesnake’s reflexes, the queen followed, all the bobbing chairs coming after her. I hurriedly stashed my weapons and reached out to grab the bottom of the last chair as it flew by over my head.
The centipede queen did not follow the sedate pace the bus had been designed for. I wasn’t sure if she was chasing the running boarox or fleeing the flotilla behind her, but she crashed and wove through the streets of Triport like a rogue comet, trailing ropes and cheap wooden seats and one desperately clinging halfling in her wake. I stashed my dagger and held on for my life. The squealing boarox cleared our path, and at the end of the comet’s tail I whipped back and forth, careening into buildings and fountains and the occasional hapless pedestrian.
“Ow!” I said as my chair hit a window, raining shards of glass and raking me with the splinters.
[-1 Hit Point: Slashing damage]
[Hit Points: 4/8]
“Sorry!” I cried to a well dressed man in robes. “I didn’t mean to smash your cake!”
“Out of the way!” I yelled to a team pulling a floating sledge of huge barrels. “Out of the way! Comet bug, coming through! Get out of the—”
Ouch. The barrel didn’t shatter as I careened off of it, but it did when it overbalanced and hit the cobblestones below. Threats and curses followed me as I tried to clear my ringing head.
[-1 Hit Point: Bludgeoning damage]
[Hit Points: 3/8]
I’ve got to stop that bug. I pulled myself on top of what was left of my chair, carefully clinging to any handhold that presented itself.
[Climb check: Success]
With my new and improved vantage point, I saw a clear stretch of road ahead. Wait for it. The still fleeing boarox entered the stretch, lowered his head, and accelerated. The queen did too. I crouched, tapped my heels on the chair, and sprang forward.
[Jump check: Partial success]
The chair shot downwards almost as fast as I shot up, banging into the cobblestones and coming apart in a splash of splinters. My own leap took me not to the front of the bus, as I had expected, but only halfway, where I landed sprawled over one of the upturned chairs in the middle. The open stretch ended with the street turning to the right, but the boarox ahead of us didn’t bother with the curve and just continued straight ahead, jumping the canal that framed the intersection. The centipede, unable to jump, turned with the street and went up the side of a building.
The sudden change in momentum tumbled me back off my chair, but I caught myself again on the one behind me. The queen slowed as the chairs hit their altitude limit and stopped floating, becoming dead weight. I took the opportunity to climb towards her.
Destabilized, the chair-ladder twisted and bumped against the side of the ill-kept building we were on. Through glassless windows, I saw scenes of interrupted domestic activity; a half dozen children, plainly siblings, crowded around a dinner table, awestruck gazes now fixed on me instead of the bowls of thin soup in front of them. I waved at the kids as I passed.
In the next window, one floor up, several workers slept in narrow bunk beds, obviously just in from a night shift in the mines.
“Shuddup wit’ the noise!” one yelled. One of them pulled a pillow over his head at the bangs and crashes from our bug-bus, another picked up an old boot and hurled it at me without bothering to look.
“Hey!” I yelled back, holding my rope and spinning out of the way. “Watch who you’re trying to squish!”
Another window, previously closed, smashed open as I spun into it, revealing a startled looking couple in each other’s arms, wearing nothing but a couple of very surprised expressions.
“Don’t mind me!” I told them.
And then the queen crested the rooftop, darting and weaving amongst the smoking chimneys. She paused next to one, as if soaking in the heat, and I tumbled off the ruined wreckage of the bus. For a moment my breathing seemed to seize up as the numbness in my side spread to my diaphragm.
Drawing my daggers, I circled around, breathing heavily, trying to get a better shot at her. The chimneys around me seeped pillars of slow smoke in the dawn air, an ephemeral, sooty cloud forest. I walked lightly so as not to startle her.
On the other side of the roof near the stairwell, a crowd of people began to assemble as the building’s residents came to see what was going on.
“Don’t come any closer!” I hollered at them. “Giant centipede on the loose!”
“Wassat?”
“I want to see!”
“I don’t, let me out of here!”
“Does anyone have an illusi-frame? Get a picture!”
“Get out of my way!”
“Get out of MY way!”
Some of the people in front tried to stay put, but the pressure of the curious crowd behind them pushed them forward. The queen twitched her feelers in their direction.
This is it. I thought. Strike now, or the body count is going to rise like a bug-bus up a slummy apartment wall.
Voice chimed in.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?” I answered back.
I moved in for the attack. The queen twitched back towards me, and half crawled up the chimney in front of her, coiling to strike, hidden by the smog. I balanced on my toes. A tiny breeze sprung up, momentarily wafting the smoky curtain away, and I leapt in at the exact same moment she darted towards me.
She was heavier than me, and her momentum bowled us backwards, towards the gutter, her mandibles snapping at my arm. I plunged in one dagger towards her neck and connected, but she got ahold of my arms and sank her mandibles deep into my flesh.
[-2 Hit Points: Slashing damage]
[Hit Points: 1/8]
Yeah? I thought at her. You’ve got one mean bite, but I have two daggers.
I stabbed the second in beside the first, severing her head from her still thrashing body.
[Bugs in the Basement: Quest update!]
[Optional objective: Kill the Queen – COMPLETED]
I reached up to disengage the venomous pinchers from my bicep, but the hot numbness swept in towards my neck, towards my head…
[Constitution check vs Poison: Failed, -4 penalty due to repeated exposure]
[- 2 Constitution]
I tumbled forward, whichever way that was, and off the side of the rooftop. My feet tangled in the ropes of the bus, dragging it over with me, and the world went dark as the breaking day receded.
I dreamed.
Maybe.
The possibly-a-dream faded in, an emp
ty gold and lavender sky above me, orbited by smashed and broken floating chairs. Where is the sun? I hadn’t seen the sun since coming to Triport, and I was cold. Mother, I miss you. My limbs, if they existed, did not answer to me.
Two grimy faces appeared amongst the chairs.
“Isshe dead?”
“I dunno. Who cares? Get her boots.”
“Anythin’ else? This one looks poor.”
“Friggin noobs.”
“Hey look, daggers, these’ll sell. And a ring.”
“I can’t this ring off! Her hands are all swelled up!”
“Cut ‘em off, then.”
“Wit’ what?”
“Wit’ one of them daggers yur holdin’, fool! Just take the pointy bit and—hey, wait, shuddup.”
“What?”
“I said shuddup! Is that the guards?”
“Around here?”
“Let’s get outta here. Leave her hands.”
The dream faded out. Breathing is hard.
Fade in. A small face above me, mostly nostrils. It was the girl who once gave Ramsey a fish.
More blackness, blurred with occasional color, and the smell of pastries.
“Oh, the poor child, and so thin, it’s a wonder that thing didn’t take her arm. Ramsey, did you get it?”
“Yeah, I got it. Is she ok? Here’s your change, Isha.”
“It is not mine, it is hers. She did not collect her gold before she left.”
“All five gold pieces. That’s a nice price. And just enough for an antitoxin, too.”
“Here, here, what did you get?”
“The only one they had. I mean, she ain’t got the policy for a full blown Neutralization spell. But if she can keep this down, she might have a shot. But take it from me, this stuff is vile.”
“We shall see about that. Give it to me. Marrisa! Bring me the syrup of cacao, and the nectre de ambrosia, yes, and a shot of rum. No, the old one.”
Clinking sounds, and whisking, and something being poured.
“There.”
“Hold her head up, that’s a dear.”
“Sam? Can you hear me? Don’t choke on this, ok?”
Something tasted sweet, and sour, and vicious underneath. I gagged on it, tried to swallow, but my throat was made of sandbags.
“Sam? Sam? Dammit, don’t you die on me, don’t you dare, I’ve never met anyone like you and I’ve only just met you… Sam!”
The dream ended.
Chapter Five
“Oh good.” Sarah said, less than enthusiastically. “You’re awake.” She didn’t sound as if she would have been that disappointed if this were never the case, ever again, and they could have just gotten on with it and maybe buried me in the compost heap out back.
None the less, it was true. I was laid out on some sacks of grain stacked in the corner, covered with a slightly frayed tablecloth. I did a quick mental inventory, and was surprised to find that other than a bone deep depletion, I felt good.
[Achieved Level 2]
[Class acquired: 2nd level Ranger, (Total: Ranger 2)]
[Granted abilities: Ambidextrous Fighting]
[Granted (1d8) maximum Hit Points: 4]
[Hit Points: 4/12]
Sarah was ironing napkins over by the stove, next to a huge pot of boiling water. As I watched, she took a wooden stick, reached into the pot, and fished out another napkin, which was laid out on a clean board and put to iron in a cloud of steam.
“I’ve saved the soapy water.” she volunteered. “It’s in the washbin out back. You can use it for a bath, if you’d like.”
By her tone of voice, this was not a suggestion.
Actually, I was a mess. Between the orks and the centipedes and the fighting and the chase and sweating out the venom, and oh yeah, the large treacle cake I had almost forgotten about on the bug bus ride, I was about as grubby as I had ever been in my life. The fruits of civilization, I thought, are stinky.
I threw off my improvised blanket and made for the back door, but was interrupted by Sarah’s outraged cry.
“You can’t go outside like that! You’re completely naked!”
“I’m going to hop in a bunch of water.” I protested. “And anyway, what’s wrong with being naked? And anyway… where are my clothes?”
“Those rags you called clothes,” she shuddered, “I burned them. With tongs. As for going outside naked… you really don’t get it, do you?” She shook her head. “Look, the yard outside doesn’t have very high of walls, and the gates are only iron bars, and people might see you. You can’t just… you can’t… it’s shameful, not to cover your private self.”
Suddenly self-conscious, I crossed my arms in front of my small breasts. I had nothing to hide behind.
Sarah gave a frustrated sigh, trying to articulate something assumed, but never examined. “Some people think, and I’m not saying I agree with them, because they clearly have issues,” she spat the word, full of contempt, “they think that when you show yourself off, you’re advertising yourself for sale. Like you’re saying they can do whatever they want to you. Then, when they’ve hurt you, no one will feel sorry for you, because everyone will think you wanted it because you have no self respect.”
“What?” I was horrified. “How is that possible?”
“It’s just how everyone has decided things are. And when one woman does it, it makes things even harder for the rest of us, because every jerk with issues will use it as an excuse to pretend that they can’t tell when they’re being disrespectful or not.”
I gathered up the tablecloth that had been my blanket and wrapped it around me like a cloak.
“Anyway.” she sniffed. “That’s why I’m taking you shopping, as soon as you’re cleaned up.”
“Did Marrisa put you up to this?” I asked suspiciously.
“No. I volunteered. Apparently,” her tone turned to one of great exasperation, “you live here now. And no one is going to come to fancy restaurant that has some crazy person living in the basement. So you’d better learn how to present yourself or we’ll never get to reopen, and then we’ll all be out of a job, and then I’ll never manage to save up enough for tuition.”
I padded out the back, keeping a wary eye out for anyone who might be watching. Sarah had been as good as her word and had hung several sheets around a steaming basin of wash water. I slipped inside the sheet enclosure and hung my own cloth over one of the lines. Gingerly, I stepped into the basin.
Oh wow.
I had never had a bath before, by way of never having had enough water to immerse in. Voluntarily, anyway. I sunk into the steaming, sweet smelling tub, and leaned back up to my neck, while the sweat encrusted grime covering my skin just dissolved away. Maybe civilization has some ok ideas after all.
It was a tub designed for washing clothes, but I was small enough to fit inside it and scrub all the dirt off me, and even dunk my head under and scrub at my hair, too. The hot water chilled quickly under the overcast sky, though, and I was not tempted to overstay the heat.
I dried myself off with the frayed tablecloth, peeked around the sheets for any viewers waiting to be offended, and darted back into the kitchen.
Sarah gave me a once-over, looked like she was going to say something about my wild and disobedient hair, and then didn’t. “Do you have anything to wear to the market?” she asked. “I’d lend you something, but nothing of mine will fit.”
I thought about this. “I’ll be right back.”
I made my way down into my room in the basement, and opened the no longer latchable chest. I pulled out the lengths of blotched blue silk. It had a fine, strong weave to it, even if the colors were no longer regular, and I wrapped it around myself in the pattern I had devised, giving me pockets and support and mobility. I tied off the final stretch as a sash around my waist, to hold everything in place. Perfect.
“How about this?” I asked Sarah, back in the kitchen.
She opened her mouth, then closed it and rolled her eyes. “F
or you, it’s fine.”
I suddenly remembered something. “Sarah,” I said urgently, “you didn’t burn my boots, too, did you?”
“You didn’t have any boots when Ramsey dragged you in. Nothing but those… I’m not even going to call them clothes… those rags and bunch of bruises.”
I stared glumly at my feet. So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Those bastards.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ramsey get so worked up about something.” Sarah gave me a skeptical look, as she might a picture that she had been told contained an optical illusion if you squinted your eyes just right, but which she suspected someone was lying about. “He was here half the night, until you started breathing regular, and then told us to tell him when you woke up. As if I’ve got a sirenstone hidden around here somewhere. Or as if I’d even know where to tell a runner to find him. Or left a coin to pay this theoretical runner. Speaking of coins,” she nodded to a small pile by the grain sacks, “those are your change.”
I picked up the stack. Four of them were silver, and another three were copper, all variously tarnished.
We left by the back door. Sarah locked up the kitchen, and I locked the basement door with the key Isha had left for me, proudly tucking it into my improvised sash. I’d never had a key to anything before.
“Leave the bath water.” Sarah told me as we passed through the garden. “Mother will probably use it on the herbs, but she’s very particular. Hey! Shoo!” This last was addressed to a scurrying rat near the compost pile. I went for my daggers, before remembering they, too, were gone. Dang it. The rat ran from Sarah’s stomping foot though, disappearing into the weeds.
A Fist Full of Sand Page 9