by S T Branton
“You need to leave. Everybody, get out. Everybody needs to leave the park, now!”
It didn't really surprise me when nobody listened to me or did what I was telling them to. They probably saw me as another raving protester trying to get my way in the political sphere by bullying others. I didn't pause to convince any of them. I kept moving through the crowd, forcing my way closer to the stage while demanding as many people as I could get my hands on to leave. It didn't matter. The cruel yet charismatic Philosopher standing in front of them had already stolen their attention.
He took a step closer to the edge of the stage and lifted his arms toward the sky. Two of the other figures held something large and draped in a tarp between them. They carried it up to Spinoza and set it on the floor in front of him.
“What's that?” somebody in the crowd asked. “What's going on?”
“What the hell is he doing?” somebody else shouted.
“Does anybody know who that is? Is he another candidate?”
The whispers and questions were moving through the crowd at breakneck speed, and I looked up to see all the cameras closely focused on what was happening on the stage. He hadn't said a word, but Spinoza had them all under his spell. Every single person in the park was looking at him, trying to figure out who he was and what he was doing. Nobody seemed to care that nobody knew and that each of his actions was more ominous than the last. He sucked them in, their fascination and morbid curiosity stronger than their instincts to protect themselves.
“Don't look at it,” I shouted to everyone who could hear me. “Don't watch him. Get out of the park.”
It was useless. Their eyes were drawn to what the Harbinger was doing and no amount of trying to convince them would stop them. I looked up at the stage again. Spinoza grabbed the top of the tarp and whisked it away dramatically, revealing a statue.
“What the hell is that?” somebody asked.
“Is that a...person?”
The statue transfixed everyone in the crowd as they tried to figure out what the hell it was and what it represented. But I knew exactly what it was. This was the rune the Harbingers had been crafting with all the materials that they had bought from Archie and stolen from the others. Something that big would have dire consequences, and it seemed like they weren't slowing down their plan at all.
Spinoza reached behind him with one hand, and another of the Harbingers walked up to him. He had been holding onto his robe since taking it off and now dropped the fabric to reveal a large black urn in his hands. Spinoza held it for a few seconds, increasing the tension and anticipation throughout the crowd. He wanted to completely monopolize the thoughts of every person in the park. The more dramatic he could make it, the less they would focus on anything else. That meant he could reveal himself to a captive audience while also further lessening their ability to escape.
Finally, he opened the urn and tipped it over the top of the statue. A thick cascade of blood poured out and flowed over the rune. Gasps rippled through the crowd. A few people tried to make their way back toward the entrance gate, but the others were so tightly held by what was happening on stage, they wouldn't move out of the way. I heard some of the onlookers questioning if this was performance art, a demonstration to illustrate the brutality allowed by current politicians.
I wished that was all it was. I wished it wasn't more accurately a glimpse of the bloodshed to come.
I tried pushing my way through the crowd, but it was no use. They were packed like sardines in the middle of the fairway, and I realized pretty quickly my best bet was to keep moving around the edge. Snaking back to the side, I followed the fence until I entered a heavily wooded area that filled in the sides and behind the staging area. I peered through the growth to see how far I had come in my impromptu hike when a massive figure stepped out from behind one thick tree.
I heard Spinoza ranting on stage, his words sounding awfully similar to the writings of Hobbes and the way the Malak spoke right before he carved himself up like a turkey. He was reaching a fever pitch, and the massive figure in front of me squared its shoulders and smiled. He was disguised, but I knew who it was. I had met him before. It was the golem. He took a step toward me, and I reached behind me for my new weapon.
The golem opened his hand, showing a rune of his own. It was a jagged stone that looked almost like he had chipped it off himself, but the teeth embedded in it ended that theory. He activated it by running the pad of his thumb across two of the teeth and the stone seemed to emit a strange light. He touched the rune to a stick he held in his other hand, and it transformed instantly into a heavy-looking spiked club. He tossed the rune into his pocket and the club from hand to hand, showing the lightness of it. He did all this while he made a series of what I assumed were supposed to be menacing faces. Instead, it looked like he had a terrible case of constipation.
Before I could activate my rune, he charged at me while swinging his club wildly. I dodged around him and tried to tackle him from behind. Instead of going down, he shook me hard and sent me flying into another tree. I hit it so hard it temporarily knocked the wind out of me. My locket thrummed against my chest. I coughed and rolled out of the way in time for him to miss a swing with his club, sticking the spikes into the trunk and sending leaves cascading down on both of us.
With a grunt, he pushed his foot against the tree until he wiggled the club loose. By then, I’d already pulled out the rune Archie crafted for me. It looked like little more than the cut-off handle of a broom, but I knew there was more to it than that. It was time for some fireworks. I cracked it in half like a glow stick, activating it in time to turn and show it to the golem. He hesitated at the sight. The rune had created its own beam of red light, but instead of morphing an already existing item, it created one out of thin air. Suddenly, there was a long chain going from the rune through my clenched other hand and down to the ground, where a massive flaming cannonball hung.
It felt light, not entirely weightless, but like I had a tennis ball on a string. I wound it once to get the feel of it, then swung it with more force. The golem watched, mesmerized, as I spun it over my head, the yellow flames dancing off the ball, unperturbed by the wind. I swung it at him, aiming as best I could for his midsection, but the golem instinctively batted it away with his club, sending the ball careening back at me. I ducked and it hit the tree behind me, setting a few leaves aflame and burying itself in the ground. I pulled it out and noted that the flame was still burning as bright as ever when I felt the golem behind me. I leapt forward to roll out of the way, but the club still caught me in the leg, and as I hit the ground, I felt hot, wet blood running down my thigh.
Not even my locket could save me from all damage.
I gritted my teeth through the pain, and stood, applying as little pressure to the leg as I could, and pulled the ball of flame closer to me. Swinging a smaller, tighter arc this time, I locked eyes with the golem. He juked toward me, then fell back, tempting me to swing and miss at him, but I held on and kept the ball in a tight rotation. Beyond the woods, I heard the rally getting more chaotic and intense. Whatever Spinoza planned to try, it would be soon. I had to rid myself of this golem once and for all, and I had to do it now.
Taking a risk that wasn’t at all calculated, although I planned to say it was later if I got out of this, I flung the ball at the golem with as much force as I could muster. He made contact again, but this time his club shattered into a million pieces.
Score one point for Archimedes.
I pulled on the chain, guiding the momentum of the golem’s attack back around. He grabbed another stick, using his rune to turn it into another weapon, some kind of long axe. But he never got a chance to use it. My weapon swung around like a meteor and there was a sickening thud as the mace crashed into his skull.
He fell to his knees, gripping the axe handle with one hand. He turned halfway toward me, and I could see it hadn't only made a dent, it had caved in one side of his face. And the caved-in side was also on
fire. His eyes glazed as he looked into mine. One hand went up to pat the flames in a futile attempt to stop them, then he dropped face-first into the fallen leaves and let out a long, final breath.
As the golem exhaled the last of the air in his stony lungs, I heard a ripple in the crowd, and peered through the trees. Spinoza and the Harbingers with him had removed their disguises. Spinoza was screaming into the mic almost completely unintelligibly, but I made out one word clearly.
"...die!"
Chapter Thirty-Eight
That was never something you wanted to hear at a political rally. Especially a political rally taken over by a cult wanting to bring about the end of the world.
While running through the edge of the woods to get closer to the stage, I came to a full stop for a moment as my brain absolutely refused to comprehend what it saw on the other side of the fairway. People were fleeing from the direction of the water, only making the chaos of the crowd worse. Behind them, marching up the bank and into the grass were…pirates? Ghosts? Both?
The water around the peninsula, usually serene and full of children playing and fishermen looking to catch something to brag about, had emptied. What looked like a ship was drifting close to the beach, but there was something wrong with it. Rather than being made of darkened wood or metal, it was hazy and translucent enough for me to see the waves and sunlight beyond it. The men stomping up onto the sand and coming toward the rally with swords held high above their heads shared the general aesthetic.
Freaking ghost pirates. Any hopes of subtlety had gone all to hell.
Splinter ran up to my shoulder and nuzzled my face before leaping to the ground and running away.
Save yourself, little buddy. If I don’t get out of this, take over the sewer and become King.
I activated the rune again and felt the chain materialize in my hand. Spinoza and the Harbingers were still on the stage, the mad Philosopher shouting instructions at them. I knew I had to get to him before he wiped everyone out, including me, but the ghost pirates would make that a little more difficult. They were already swarming the park, becoming more solid as they walked, algae-hardened cutlasses swiping at whoever was slow enough to not get out of the way. A security guard tried to fight one off. His fists crashed into the skull and knocked off the bottom part of the jaw, but did nothing to stop its advance. Two more jumped in the air and the three of them tackled the guard to the ground, ruthlessly slashing at him with their rusted blades.
A crowd had formed near the gate's exit, and the pirates were making their advance. I took off for the middle of the two groups, preparing my new rune by swinging it in long, slow loops. One ghost had beaten me to the middle and I flung the chain, the ball sizzling through the air toward the skeletal buccaneer. It crashed into the back of its head and it disintegrated into dust, the rest of the body falling apart in pieces and crumbling into the ground.
Spinning to face the advancing horde, I swung the ball in a long circle. It crashed through several of them, breaking through ribs, legs and arms and turning the skeletons into piles of flaming ash. One had advanced without being hit and was too close now, leaping through the air at me. I pulled out my switchblade and met his cutlass in mid-air. He swung again, thrashing at me, and I parried as best I could. I was terrified and out of my element, and in a sheer panic about reaching Spinoza before he caused any more damage, and yet, somewhere in the back of my mind a little voice was absolutely geeking out. I was currently sword-fighting a freaking pirate skeleton. If I lived through this, I would tell every single person I ever met about the time I beat up ghost pirates.
Maybe I could sell the rights to Johnny Depp.
Thankfully, my geeking out didn't interrupt my survival skills when a second pirate showed up behind me and I instinctively elbowed it in the jaw. While I figured it wouldn’t feel pain, it would at least move its attention away from the huddled mass of screaming humans and toward me. I spun and slashed at it, slicing through its center with my blade, and spinning back to the first one. I had pulled the chain of my new rune, and the ball had come back to me. When I yanked it up, the flaming ball split the ghost in two from the crotch upward. It disintegrated into dust and I swung the ball around, taking out a few more pirates along the way.
I was cutting a path through them, swinging the flaming cannonball and the switchblade in alternating swipes. I locked my eyes on Spinoza, and he slowly turned toward me, meeting my gaze. Instantly, a pall came over his face, and he began barking frantic orders at the Harbingers. They were building something on the stage, something massive and powerful, and I knew that whatever it was, I wouldn't live to see it used twice.
A scream from behind me broke my attention, and I saw a second wave of pirates had gotten past me on the sides. They were advancing closer to the humans, who were stampeding at the gates and creating a wall of unmoving mass. I looked back at Spinoza, then spun to the pirates while swinging the ball again.
Flames streamed from it as the ball soared through the air, and it crashed into several ghosts when they were mere feet from the humans. The flame expanded and seemed to take a life of its own, and I realized it was dancing along the pirates as I moved my eyes over them. Where there once was a secondary unit of ghostly pirates was now only smoke and ash.
I turned and locked eyes with Spinoza again and grinned. He wasn't ready yet, and I had wiped out most of the forces he had hoped would distract and terrify people while he built his weapon. A line of the ghost pirates remained standing guard in front of the stage, and I pulled the chain so the cannonball was close to my hand. It surged with energy and the ball of fire blazed painlessly over my arm. An idea struck me, and I ran closer to the stage. The pirates circled me, and I smiled inside. I was getting the hang of this fighting-in-large-groups thing.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I needed to get to Spinoza and take him out, but the odds weren't exactly in my favor. The Harbingers had no interest in an even close-to-equally matched fight. They wanted to fight dirty, but I’d prepared for battle. The Guild was on its way and there was nothing these Harbingers or their ghost brigade could do to me that was anywhere near what was possible in The Deep. I wouldn’t hold anything back.
I jumped and crashed down with the cannonball like I was dunking the world's hottest basketball. It crushed through the pirate I hit and I landed on one knee while pulling the chain up and out, then spinning it in a circle. The pirates who had surrounded me closed in, and I took out a dozen or so of them in one swoop. One broke through the ranks and got in close quarters and I kicked high, sending it flying behind me. I spun the chain around over my head once, then launched it at an oncoming pirate. The flame buzzed as it burned through the air and spread as the ball buried itself in the figure, sending it backward into two others.
But even with my new weapon, the numbers were against me. Something hard and boney crashed into my head and I fell forward. I rolled onto my back as a pirate landed on top of me, chomping at me with a mouth that was missing several of its teeth and smelled like a drawer full of dirty gym socks. I grabbed its arm in one hand as it tried to skewer me with its cutlass. With my switchblade in my other hand, I stabbed again and again at his shoulder until his arm ripped from his body. The hand and cutlass came off in my grip and the pirate lost balance, falling onto me.
"Sorry, not on the first date." I kicked him off, then brought the sword down in the center of his skull.
I stood and looked around at what remained of the pirates, trying to find Spinoza. He was no longer near the podium and had positioned himself behind the weapon they were building. It looked like a demented satellite dish, and was aimed at the rune statue. Spinoza was fiddling with something behind it and I knew my time had basically run out. Whatever they’d designed that thing to do, he would activate it in a few moments and all of my awesome pirate fighting stories would be heard by no one.
Three of the pirates charged me. I ducked, allowing them to crash into each other. I spun the chain and wrap
ped it around all three of their necks before yanking it backward. Their heads popped off and the cannonball soared behind me, blowing a hole through one of them and burying itself into another.
There were only a few left now. I pulled the chain, yanking the ball close to me as I stalked toward the stage. The fight with the minions was over, whether they liked it or not, and I would get to Spinoza now. One of the pirates came at me from my left, and I stabbed through its skull without looking. I held the ball close to my hand, and as a screaming pirate approached to my right, I shot-put it toward him, exploding his face in a ball of flame, then yanked the chain to get the ball back to me.
I put the switchblade back in my pocket. Two more pirates charged me from directly in front and I grabbed the chain with both hands, winging it at their legs. It wrapped around them, and I continued walking to the stage. As I approached the fallen, tangled pirates, I stomped on their heads, crushing them to dust below my heel. The locket had plenty of power left, and I began to all-out run toward the stage, yanking the chain behind me. The ball soared to me as if summoned and hovered above my hand until I clasped the chain right below it. The fire sparked and grew higher, and I jumped onto the stage. Spinoza's face was a mixture of terror and surprise, and a wall of Harbingers closed in to protect him.
The Harbingers charged me, and I began throwing fists. The cannonball flew from my hand and crashed into the podium, exploding it into a thousand pieces. It had barely missed a nasty-looking ogre. As I reached to pull it back, another hit me hard in the back. I flew to the edge of the stage, and as I stood, I realized that I had lost my grip on it. I searched around for it, but it had gotten lost in the chaos. My rune was missing.
I didn't have time to worry about that yet since there were various Harbingers bearing down on me. I rolled to my side and pulled out my trusty switchblade. Time to go old-school. I swept my leg out and tripped a tall satyr, sending her headfirst off the stage and into a tangle of chairs and teleprompting equipment. Getting to my knees, I slashed a goblin at waist height and spilled his guts everywhere. He fell to the floor of the stage, holding his insides close as he screamed in pain.