by Al K. Line
No Choice
We darted behind a large lump of machinery but it was futile as the only way out was through the tunnel and the majority of the goblins still congregated there. I watched as several put out the fire with extinguishers and then cleared away the mess, fiddling with the thick bunches of wires at the base and nodding grimly.
Then another team joined them and in a matter of minutes they already had a new plinth in place and were fitting parts together. Damn, they really wanted this thing up and running again.
Distracted, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned as half a dozen goblins with some wicked-looking daggers, clubs, and short pieces of pipe spread out in front of us.
"It's time to go," I said to Mithnite.
"Too right. What's the plan?" he asked, looking at me with hope in his eyes.
"The plan? Simple, we blast 'em and run away."
"I like it!" With a wicked grin he leapt up, hollered something unintelligible, and with fiery balls of brightest orange glowing in his hands he sprang into action.
"Kids," I moaned, and went to join the fray.
I don't know if Mithnite had finally come into his own as a man and wizard, if the after-effects of the machine had made him utterly unafraid and fearless, or if he was merely pissed off about the goblins and Kim and life in general, but he kind of went nuts. Foregoing the usual standing and shouting abuse and firing off several volleys of magical mayhem, he ran at the goblins, flinging the fire as he went. Then he jumped at them Bruce Lee style, feet first.
Which would have been awesome, if the goblins hadn't just stepped aside and watched with glee as he landed hard on his ass and slid along the floor, aided by a generous coating of ectoplasm.
I smiled but it soon turned serious as the goblins advanced fast, weapons raised.
Wasting no time, I did the vampire shimmer shuffle and willed my ink into being as I did so. Maybe it was my speed, or my noob status as one of the inked, but there was a delay before the magic found focus. By this time my punch was already arcing through the air. Halfway through its trajectory, the magic kicked in. It was as if I'd been given a boost of nitrous oxide, making my arm complete its path with a speed I'd never known before, the ink feeling fat under my clothes, my hand glowing black and angry.
My fist connected with the head of the goblin nearest Mithnite with astonishing force. The goblin's face collapsed in on itself. Bone and cartilage cracked, the skull split open, and a thick soup of liquid brain spurted out through the cracks right into my face.
I've eaten several odd things in my time, but I can tell you now there's nothing as downright nasty as goblin brain. It's kind of nutty, disgustingly slimy, and very sour. I spat and spun, coat whirling in a suitably dramatic manner, and punched straight out, fist like iron, power of the universe behind it. I connected with a torso this time and the tight skin over its naked pot belly split. My fist sank in deep, magic burned bright in my hand, and as I pulled out with a gross sucking sound the goblin erupted into flame then burst apart like a melon shot with a bazooka. Overkill, but it did the job.
Mithnite scrambled to his feet, shook his head in wonder, then got control of himself and began to mumble. Wizards learn spells to help them perform magic, memorizing these private and mysterious words to aid in the control. It's only as they mature that they become so ingrained, so second nature, that they no longer need them, until they finally understand that the spells are nothing but a crutch to help focus the mind, to summon their will and channel the magic they draw from the Empty.
Mithnite was still young, a babe in the realms of wizards, so he mumbled but the magic produced was not the act of a trainee, it was pretty damn cool. He spread his arms wide as the goblins ran at us, and his entire body shimmered like I was seeing it through thick glass.
Silver sparks of light imbued with menace leapt from his hands and shot out like icy darts. Several missed their mark but more hit, piercing the heads and necks of the goblins. They howled and yanked the shining silver shards out.
Mithnite tutted. "Should have left them in."
As the darts came free, the goblins' insides spewed out of the piercings, like the tiny holes were holding back immense pressure. Watery green blood spurted easily twenty feet from the wounds on their bodies, but those with head shots fared the worst as their twisted brains shot out in lumps that forced the holes to enlarge. The head shots killed the goblins but the other wounds stopped bleeding after just a second. With no concern for their own safety or a care for their fallen comrades, the goblins bellowed and sprinted the short distance between us.
I felt the effects of magic increase as Mithnite dropped to all fours in agony. As he cried out, rolled to his side and curled up into the fetal position, I became more powerful.
Without thinking, I clapped my hands together and the air crackled as a forked lightning bolt fried the air and two goblins in its path. They were destroyed in a flash of white anger, their skin burned, blistered, and blackened. Their screams will haunt me forever. Being burned alive is a cruel way to die, one of the worst, and even though I knew they intended to kill us it was still a disgusting thing to do.
I turned, ready to deal with anyone else, but we'd either killed or maimed our attackers. The rest were at the machine console or still blocking the way out.
I bent and scooped the rigid body of Mithnite up into my arms, took a final look around, then ran like a train at the entrance. The goblins were knocked aside and I raced up the tunnel, out into the barn, smashed through the doors and didn't stop even as we hit cool fresh air.
With the energy of life, or maybe death itself, behind me, I raced through the dawn faster than the sun and didn't stop until I got to the car.
I dropped Mithnite in the damp grass and finally took a deep breath, clearing my lungs with the pure air, unsullied by magic or machines or goblin stench.
"Guess we know what's causing the problem," said Mithnite, wincing as he straightened out.
"Guess we do.
"What now?"
"Now? Now we go home and think about what to do next. I need a coffee. And a shower."
"Yeah, you do kinda stink."
"Buddy, you don't smell too great yourself."
We got in the car and I drove home. At least the roads were clear, all the Regulars were still tucked up in bed.
House a Mess
Halfway home, I opened all the windows as I'd nodded off for a moment and almost crashed. I was utterly exhausted, tired in a way I'd never been before. It was the magic, using it was draining me terribly, but more than that was the ink. It took so much mental control to allow it to work as intended, so much focus, that it ate up the calories like I couldn't believe. I was starving again, could feed on both blood and regular food, and that wasn't good.
The last thing I wanted was to become a constant feeder just to use magic, so I pushed the cravings down and forced myself to believe it was all in my mind, that I'd fed recently and had no need to do so for a long time to come.
Maybe it was stress too. After all, I wasn't used to being the one in charge, the one tasked with solving what was becoming an increasingly large issue. This was on me and I didn't like it, not one bit.
Mithnite was silent apart from the snoring, and boy was I envious. I wanted to sleep so much I had to force myself not to drive like a madwoman just to get home and dive under the sheets. What I wanted more than anything was to cuddle up to Faz and sleep for a year. Maybe two.
My life is often crazy but this was a whole other level of madness. I was unaccustomed to the stress levels, the constant surges of adrenaline, the fight-or-flight response. Things were usually on a more even keel even if life had its major ups and downs. I'd been up and at 'em for too long and I knew my own body well enough to know I couldn't keep going.
So it was with my spirits soaring that I parked up on the bare patch of ground before our garden started and woke Mithnite. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily and got out of the car mumbling
to himself, still half asleep. He looked terrible, dark bags under his eyes, covered in dirt, goblin gore stuck to his skin, ectoplasm coating his clothes and face, and chunks of brain matted into his hair.
I touched my own hair carefully and swallowed bile as I felt squishy lumps between my fingers. Definitely time for a shower. Coffee first though. We wandered up the path between the raised beds for vegetables, most of it now eaten, and gradually what I was seeing filtered through to my brain. The earth was lumpy, the edging was broken, the stakes and the cabbages and other autumn vegetables were wilted and sickly looking, and the weeds seemed to have sprung up overnight.
"What the hell?" I glanced up at the house and whereas the building usually gleamed with a bright luster and the windows sparkled, everything was dull and washed out. The glass was smudged and the paint was no longer bright white but a pallid yellow; it was like the house was sick.
Angry chatter came from the woods, unseen creatures mumbling and grumbling. The hobs. Something was terribly amiss.
We rushed up to the house and I was shocked to see my geraniums all but dead, most pots knocked over. There was porridge spilled all over the paving, tiny footprints leading away into the grass.
The door was ajar, the paint peeling, and I pushed it open hesitantly; the hinges squealed like they hadn't done for ages.
"Hello? Faz, are you home?"
"In here," shouted Faz from the kitchen.
We exchanged glances then marched into the hallway and made for the kitchen.
"Shit, did someone let a bomb off?" asked Mithnite as we both took in the utter chaos of the room.
"No, it's worse," said Faz, looking exhausted, beard gray, face haggard, hair a mess, dressing gown gaping open.
"You look awful," I said.
"So do you." Faz slumped into a chair; a leg broke and he tumbled to the flagstones. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
"What's going on? What happened?" I asked.
"All I can say is, it's been an experience." And with that a lump of plaster fell from the ceiling and smacked Faz on the head. He slumped over, out cold.
"I'll put the kettle on," said Mithnite.
"Good idea."
Everyone's Stressed
Faz shot upright, eyes wild, and rubbed at his head. I crouched down and asked, "Are you okay?" He grunted as I hauled him to his feet.
"Damn, this just keeps getting worse. But later, tell me how it went. Are you okay? What about our secret demon overlord here, did he get that sorted?"
"Um, no about Mithnite, still a work in progress, and, er, not quite about the other stuff. Oh, I'm okay, tired, but okay." I suddenly felt very aware of just how gross I was, and the stench in the kitchen was enough to make me gag. "Damn, sorry about the smell."
"It's not you," Faz said with a smile. "I'm glad you're okay, that's the main thing. Tough out there, isn't it?"
"Very."
"How's the ink? Is it working properly?"
"Great. It's tiring using it, it takes a lot of focus, but I'm getting the hang of it."
"Good, that's good. It can take years, so give yourself some credit. You're doing amazing, Kate." Faz cuddled me and kissed a relatively clear spot on my cheek. I sank into him, held his hard body against mine and never wanted to let go.
Then for no reason whatsoever, I began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" he asked, pushing me back so he could look at me.
"I don't know, I honestly have no idea. Just stress. It's so good to be home."
"Um, okay." Faz glanced at Mithnite but he was busy wiping up coffee he'd spilled over the counter. Actually there was a lot of mess on the counter, the floor too. "Leave it, there's no point."
Mithnite turned and said, "What? Why not?"
"Because our beautiful home is under attack. I've been up all night. Ever since you left, the hobs have gone nuts and are causing chaos. I put out food for them but they got angry and they keep coming back and it's getting worse."
Another lump of plaster fell and landed in the kettle spout, then the tap at the kitchen sink began to drip loudly. The drain gurgled.
"Damn, there goes the plumbing again."
"What's this all about? Why have they gone crazy? They love this place, love us, always keep it immaculate."
"It's this damn thing you're dealing with, I'm sure," said Faz as he sat in another chair and eased back gently before staring anxiously at the ceiling.
"So it's getting worse. It's even affecting the hobs now? This isn't good, not at all." Then I realized what I'd uncovered and smiled. "Don't worry, it'll be over soon."
"Good, because I can't take much more of this." Faz scratched at his beard and tried to tame his hair but he still looked like a scarecrow that had got out of bed on the wrong side. "Ugh I'm so tired."
"Then let's all get some sleep and maybe when we wake up it will all be over," I suggested.
For a moment they both looked at me, then smiled and replied in unison, "That's a great idea."
Being Good
Half asleep, I called Dancer and filled him in on events. He sounded sluggish bordering on comatose, moaned about only snatching a few hours of sleep as he kept getting interrupted by reports of violence that escalated throughout the night. And then as dawn broke things got out of control and the body count became a serious problem.
It tied in with the machine activating, we both agreed on that, so at least we were certain of the source. But, like me, he'd never heard of such a device, and trust me, he's been around and knows a thing or two. He took the news well though, all things considered, and told me to report in at 2PM and that by then he should have a suitable plan in place. Until then I should rest, prepare myself, and under no circumstances was I to do anything rash—like I would!—just hang tight and be on time.
After Mithnite had finished in the bathroom, I picked up his wet towels, rinsed out the shower—he may be a reincarnated demon but he still acts like our home is a bloody hotel—and hopped in the shower. The water was cold then scalding then cold again, and it cut out completely several times, so the hobs were still angry, but I didn't care. When you've got goblin goop stuck up your nostril, any water is good water as far as I'm concerned.
And then, oh joy of joys, oh thing of beauty that made my heart sing, I slipped underneath cool sheets next to a smiling Faz. Our naked bodies intertwined, our tattooed skin pressed so close it was like we were trying to get inside the other. He was still a little bony and his muscle was only just returning. None of that mattered, this was my husband and I loved him. I felt safe wrapped in his arms, alone in our bedroom as Hidden rampaged through the waking city or fought in dark private places.
"We need to talk about Mithnite," said Faz, looking stressed and worried. "How can this be true? It's nuts."
"I know, but it's real. I met the guy, Kim, and it's true. Mithnite is, or was, something different."
"Poor kid, that's gotta mess with your head."
"Later, must sleep," I mumbled, losing focus and unable to form any more words. My brain was overloaded, nothing would function, and I cuddled close to Faz, just to rest and gather my thoughts.
I was asleep in an instant, the dark room a blessing, for the slowly creeping vampire nature craved the night and abhorred the day. I sank into a dreamless slumber, the daily death of the vampire, and knew that one day this would be who I was. A creature who could no longer stand the daylight, who felt disgusted by the cheery sun. But for now, and for as long as I could, I would enjoy her bright smile and bask in her warmth even though it made me shiver a little inside.
I awoke to the sound of rain tapping lightly on the window and Faz snoring. I turned my head on the fluffy pillow to stare at him, this strange man who saved me from death, who I felt attracted to the moment I saw him, who was now my husband and one day would be the father of my child, maybe my children.
His face was still haggard, but I'd seen it before many times. Sure, this was different, but in many ways it was the same. Magic is energy b
ut it is violence, and violent men pay the price for its abuse, for stealing it. They pay in pain and they pay in pride, and he'd paid more times than most.
There was a big hill to climb for him, he had to relearn much of what he'd lost, but his skill, his strength, it was all there inside waiting for him. He was a fighter and he'd be back, more dangerous than ever.
I smiled at my husband, and although I knew the world had gone to shit, I felt like everything was exactly as it should be lying there next to him. We were in a cocoon of perfection and nothing could ruin it.
Then one of the legs fell off the bed, the alarm went nuts and was somehow ten times louder than it should be, a lump of plaster fell on my head, and I banged my elbow on the floor as I rolled across the floorboards. I got a splinter too.
"Guess it's time to start this all over again," I muttered as I got up and stared down in wonder at Faz, still snoring soundly. It must have been a very bad night.
I Need Coffee!
I dressed, stubbornly sticking to a white t-shirt even though I knew it was unlikely it would stay clean, and then trudged through my house now in total disarray, ignoring as best I could the chaos caused by the hobs. By the time I got to the kitchen I was practically crawling. Hunger had overtaken me completely and I felt exhausted taking the last few steps to the fridge. I grabbed anything I could find and stuffed my face with yogurt and cheese, and I know it's gross but I cracked four eggs into my mouth and swallowed them greedily. A gal needs her protein.
I cleaned out the kettle and made coffee with only one mishap when the handle fell off a mug, and sipped it gratefully.
Sitting warily on a chair, looking around nervously, I went through a mental checklist of what needed to be done. First, I had my appointment with Dancer, and hopefully we'd go deal with the goblins. I should call Oskari, but unless there were pressing issues he'd be sleeping. Most important was the problem of Mithnite and his return to his previous life.
This was a little harder to deal with, make that impossible. How did you stop someone, something, like Kim? More to the point, how come he hadn't come and got him already? Guess it's the time thing. A day for us could be a year or no time at all for him, so he could turn up at any moment, anywhere.