Vodník

by Bryce Moore

  He twittered, then tried to tug his collar out of my hand. “You’re—I can’t—would you mind?”

  I tightened my grip and jerked the vodník toward me so he was pressed up against the edge of the opening. With me standing between him and the beam of the flashlight, his face was cast in shadow.

  “Fine,” he said. “I suppose I can understand why you’re slightly irate. But see it my way. Can’t you see how much extra work you’ve made for me? Now I’ll have to take her soul the—”

  “Shut up,” I said, shaking him. “My cousin’s set to die in forty-five minutes, and you’d better have a damn good explanation about how this is all going to work out.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Here it is.” He brought up his other hand and smiled as he showed me a teacup. “I knew it was there—”

  I grabbed it from his hand and threw it on the floor. It shattered. A soul-stealing teacup. Broken at last. I held my breath for a moment.

  The vodník snarled, his eyes glowing blue for a moment. “Get off me. My patience is wearing—”

  “I don’t understand!” Lesana wailed from behind me.

  “Did I do it?” I asked, staring at the teacup. “Did I let a soul go?”

  “You’re so stupid,” the vodník said, the snarl gone from his face. “How many times do I have to tell you? Once I’ve loaded a teacup, I make sure it can’t break.” He peered past me to Lesana. “Never mind all this,” he said again. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, Lesana. Not a thing. I’m here now, and I’ll take care of you.”

  “No,” she said. She had a tremble of panic in her voice. “Get away. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “Look,” the vodník said. “I realize I haven’t always been the perfect gentleman. But I never intended this to happen. I didn’t mean to bite you—I was just barely a vodník back then, and you were hurting me. How was I supposed to know a little nibble would turn you into a water spirit? It was self-defense. Bite or be killed. And besides, it’s all better now, right? You’re back to being human and everything, and as soon as I can go get another teacup”—he glared at me again—“we’ll be ready to go. You don’t have to worry about a thing from here on out, because Ond—”

  I shook him by the collar. “I think the lady said she wanted nothing to do with you. You’re going to show me where your teacups are, and then you’re going to release some of your souls. And you’re going to do it right now.”

  The vodník tried to back away from the hole. “You-you-you-you stay out of this. You’ve done your part, even if you did manage to hormone it up. But I’ll overlook that, and now I’ll let you go, and I think I’m being rather generous about that too.”

  “You do, huh?” I said.

  He nodded. “Yes. Very. Extremely. You were the only one who could have brought Lesana back to me. Make her soul suitable for extraction, so to speak. It had to be someone who could affect both worlds. So what if love’s first kiss did the trick instead of a magical potion.” He shrugged. “Moot point. Now she’s back to life for a bit, but I can take her soul the old-fashioned way. Just an extra step. And sure, maybe for a bit I thought I’d steal your soul and force you to do what I wanted, but this way worked so much more neatly. You didn’t have to die, and Lesana could come and be safe with me.”

  “What about Katka? What about all that crap about this solving all my problems?”

  The vodník cleared his throat. “Right. About that. You see, I was going to explain—after this all calmed down, maybe over a nice hot tea. Your cousin will be taken care of. I’ll go get her soul and give it to you, free of charge. You can talk to her whenever you want. She’ll never get old, never die, never nothing. No pain, no seizures, no racism. Easy. Simple. I’m a very generous vodník.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. Something was building inside me. All the nerves and the worries and the frustrations that I’d had since I got to Slovakia—especially since I found out about Katka’s fate—were bubbling up from deep down. A low subwoofer was thumping somewhere deep in my ears.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m practically a philanthropist. I love people. All people.”

  “You don’t love people. You kill them.”

  “Tomas, I don’t kill people. I’ve told you that already. I help people.”

  “Not anymore, you don’t. I’m going to kill you. You said I could affect both worlds. Maybe you should try helping yourself for once.”

  He melted into liquid and dripped through my fingers, only to reform out of my reach, in the darkness outside Lesana’s room. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tomas. Kill me? That won’t do anyone any good. My death wouldn’t fill the deal you made with Morena. It has to be a human soul, and my soul’s been tainted. I’ve got a whole shelf full of wizards who can assure you of that. No killing vodníks. Bad idea.”

  “It doesn’t have to fill the deal for Katka,” I said, pointing at him. “I’ll break every teacup you have, and that’ll do the trick. But you let us think this would work. You told us it would. And you’re going to pay for it even if I have to shove your face into a salt mine.”

  “Tomas,” Lesana said from behind me, “be careful, he’s much stronger than he lets himself appear.”

  “So am I,” I said. The subwoofer was getting louder.

  “Listen to the girl,” the vodník said. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

  I lunged through the opening, but before I could get more than my hands through, a membrane of water sprang from the vodník’s hand and blocked the entrance. Where it touched my skin, it burned.

  “I think we need to calm down,” the vodník said. “Deep breaths. You’re being very hasty.”

  “Let me out!” I slapped at the membrane again, and my skin hissed where it touched it.

  “Not right now,” he said. “I’ll just go grab a few extra teacups. Everyone’s calmer with tea. Or in tea or—whatever.”

  The vodník ran up the stairs and leaped through the hole into the basement, as easily as if he were hopping from one stair to the next.

  I slapped the wall in frustration.

  “Tomas.”

  I turned to Lesana, who had walked over to me. “Calm down.”

  “There’s no time,” I said. “We have to go after him. If I can’t get my hands on one of those teacups . . .”

  “How?” she said. “We’re trapped.”

  I glanced around the room and the sledgehammer caught my eye. “Not for long.” I picked up the hammer and attacked the membrane. As soon as the steel hit it, the membrane fell in a splash to the floor. I rushed through the hole.

  Outside, my father and L’uboš were gone, hopefully to a hospital or an ambulance. L’uboš would take care of Dad. I had to trust him, just as he was trusting me with Katka.

  It wasn’t until I was running down the street that I noticed I wasn’t alone. Lesana had caught up to me. For someone who until a few minutes ago had been dead for centuries, she was remarkably fast. She was pumping her legs as quickly as they would go, her dress streaming back behind her and making her look backlit in the street lights.

  “Wait, Tomas!”

  I shook my head and kept running.

  “You’re going the wrong way!”

  If I were going to run to the castle, yes. But I wasn’t going to run. I’d drive. In a few more seconds, I was at the car, my hand fumbling in my pocket for the spare keys. It took some time to open the door and take off the bar on the steering wheel, but it was still faster than I would have been able to make it up to the castle. I leaned over and opened the door for Lesana. “Get in.”

  The engine roared to life and we were off, the car rattling on the cobblestones as I steered around pedestrians and through the narrow streets. I wasn’t the world’s best stick-shifter, but even I could manage a short drive (as long as I didn’t come to a complete stop going uphill). In less than a minute, we made the final turn, and the castle gates came in sight. They should have been locked for the evening, but t
hey were wide open and the vodník was nowhere in sight. The only person on the castle plateau this late was the other night watchman, and if he was running on schedule, he was off somewhere patrolling the main keep right now.

  I drove through the gates, the car scraping against them, since it was barely wide enough to squeeze through. Dad would understand the damage.

  At the top of the hill, by the steel and glass visitor’s center, I put the car in park and got out. So did Lesana. Ahead of us, the moon picked out the Well of Love in hazy detail. Standing beside it was the vodník. The steel grate that locked the well was wide open, and as I watched, something flew out of the well and into the vodník’s outstretched hand. He looked at us, then motioned for us to come closer.

  “It’s a trap,” Lesana said. “He has another teacup.”

  Since when did a teacup become a lethal weapon? “That’s what I want,” I said and started walking toward the well. Lesana followed.

  The vodník smiled when we were within speaking distance. “I really appreciate you coming here so quickly. Very considerate. Thoughtful, even. Look, Lesana. I got the master cup for you. Straight into the lap of luxury. Come. Into the cup. You’ll be happier with me.”

  “No,” Lesana said.

  The vodník frowned, his face taking on more emotion than that response should have generated. “I don’t believe I gave you a choice.”

  “What’s a master cup?” I asked.

  “Boys should be seen, not heard,” the vodník said.

  “It’s his first cup,” Lesana said, putting her hand on my arm and trying to pull me back. “He doesn’t need to prepare it to take a soul, and he stores his most choice souls inside it.”

  “What—all at once?” I asked.

  The vodník grunted. “Think of it as a soul motel. Souls check in, they don’t check out. Now, I’ve been more than reasonable, but the time for reason is finished.” Water shot out of the well behind him, spilling over the sides and quickly making a shallow pool.

  A reptilian head erupted from the middle of the water, crashing upward through the awning that covered the well. It was attached to a long sinuous neck, dark blue in the moonlight, covered in scales. The neck was followed by an arm, then another, each heavily muscled, with strong paws ending in curved claws. They swiped at what was left of the awning, scattering splinters across the plaza. Thick wings emerged from the well, as if the beast was just being born, fresh into the world. It all happened in a matter of moments.

  Ajax. The water dragon was free, and he was pissed.

  As I stumbled backward from the explosion, a tendril of water snaked out to loop around Lesana’s leg. In a flash, she was swept from her feet and dragged into the well. The vodník jumped in after her, and then it was just me and the monster. He sniffed at the air, huge gulps of breath that caused the leaves on the tree to get sucked forward with each intake. His eyes glowed in the moonlight.

  Right about then, all those thoughts about “doing this no matter what” didn’t seem quite as reasoned as they had. He can’t see you if you don’t move, I reminded myself. I’d just do what I did when I’d been in the well last time: stay still and wait to move. Red light, green—

  Ajax lowered his head, opened his mouth and unleashed a blast of water. Picture getting hit with about twenty fire hoses going full blast. I flew backward through the air and landed in the tree behind me.

  I would have fallen to the ground, but I had been impaled by two branches, one through my unscarred arm, the other through my side. Where was the pain? I glanced down to see bloody leaves still attached to the tree limbs.

  Meanwhile, the water beast tromped over to me. Up in the tree, I was almost at eye level with him. The monster’s gaze was two glowing hurricanes. Ajax flicked out his tongue once, then leaned forward and flicked the tongue out again.

  His head couldn’t fit within the branches, and he couldn’t tell where I was in the middle of all those moving leaves. His arms weren’t long enough to bat at me. The overall effect was like watching a T-rex trying to get something out of a vending machine. And the beast did what any sentient predator would try—he rattled the tree.

  His tailed whipped out and lashed at the trunk. The tree withstood the blow—it was thick and old and had seen abuse from storms before. But it shuddered, and the branches impaling me cracked, shifting my weight. I slipped forward off the branch.

  I must have been in shock; there was still no pain. The fear of what would happen when I hit the ground, however, was too real. I scrabbled at the branches around me, but my left arm—the one with a branch through it—was next to useless, and the other—the one with my burn—couldn’t get a grip. I fell.

  The branches below me cushioned most of my fall, but I still hit the ground with a resounding thud that knocked the wind out of me. I lay there, the moon shining through the tree above me as I waited for the monster to squish me.

  But Ajax was still searching the tree. He had missed me falling down, and with his attention focused elsewhere, maybe I had a chance. He kept whaling at the tree with his tail, and with each blow, there were a few seconds where the tail was between me and the monster’s eyes. That was when I moved, bit by bit at first, then more when I was farther out of the thing’s line of sight.

  When I couldn’t wait anymore, I broke out into a run. It wasn’t like I had time to do nothing. I checked my uncle’s watch—twenty-five minutes left. I did my best to sprint up the hill toward the keep, praying the beast wouldn’t spot me. It didn’t. I had an idea, but I’d need wood to do it. And matches.

  My lungs felt like they were on fire, but I kept going. Halfway up the hill, I ran into the other night watchman, Julo. He was pale and his eyes were round as cherries. “What’s going on?” he said.

  I shook my head. “Run. Just run and hide. Find someplace safe, and don’t come out until morning.” He didn’t need encouragement. Julo fled, his longer strides outdistancing me easily. When I made it into the keep, I headed up the stairs into the watchman’s apartment.

  As soon as I was through the door, I rifled through everything, looking for matches. I found a couple of bottles of vodka in the process, and I added handkerchiefs when I found those. Still it took me a couple of minutes to finally come across a lighter. When I had it, I clutched it to my chest, then realized that there was still no pain from my puncture wounds. How long did shock last? I felt at them.

  The wounds had scabbed over already.

  No time to question how.

  The thudding noises coming from below had stopped. The monster must have figured out I had gone.

  I edged my way out of the apartment and peeked around. No water dragon. I snuck down the stairs and back in the direction of the well, cradling the vodka bottles in my scarred arm. I crept down the path, through the gates and into the well courtyard.

  The beast was nowhere to be seen.

  I opened up one of the vodka bottles and poured some of the alcohol onto a handkerchief before stuffing the cloth down the neck, then I repeated the process with the other bottle. I wasn’t an ammunitions expert, but hopefully my immunity to fire would protect me from any really stupid errors. I took out the lighter, and on the second try a tiny flicker appeared. Just touching it to one of the cloths was enough for the fire to crackle to life.

  Molotov cocktail time.

  “Here, Ajax,” I called out. I’d rather have the thing bellow out and rush me—and me know where it was—than try to sneak around without knowing when I might get attacked. My mouth was dry and my vision a bit blurry, but I tried to act calm and stride confidently out into the open, waving the flaming bottle above my head. “I’ve got a snack for you.”

  From somewhere ahead of me, I heard sniffing. Great bellows of lungs inhaling the night air. I kept walking.

  In an instant, the dragon surged out from the path leading down to the city, barreling toward me. I touched the flames to the other bottle, then cocked my arm back and threw.

  If the monster hadn�
��t kept running at me, I’m sure I would have missed. I’d thrown too soon. But he could move even faster than I had guessed, and the bottle crashed into his neck, fire blossoming all over his chest, splashing in flaming drops to the ground.

  Ajax roared in pain and shook himself before spitting water all over the wound—he wouldn’t be distracted for long. I sprinted past the monster and toward the house-sized wooden structure opposite the tour guide office. When I was close, I hurled the other cocktail at the beams. Once again, glass shattered and fire went everywhere, licking at the wood and becoming a blaze in seconds.

  “Ohnica,” I shouted. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you now!”

  The fire kept snapping and growing, but there was no sign of the víla. Something hit me from behind, and once more I was sailing through the air, landing next to a bench in the amphitheater.

  The water dragon had put out his fire, and now he knew where I was. I rolled onto my back to see him bearing down on me, his eyes narrow slits with blue light streaming from them. If anything, he smiled as he reared his head back and inhaled for what I was sure would be a strong gush of water, shot right at my head.

  I rolled at the last instant, and the water spout didn’t hit me straight on, instead propelling me into one of the other benches. Now I was on my feet, and I turned to face the beast. His head lowered, and the tail came around for another blow. I ducked down to the ground, the tail passing inches above me. I struggled to my feet and faltered my way toward the beast. I couldn’t let him have the space for another go with that tail.

  “Ohnica!” I called out again. “Help!” Could she even hear me?

  Ajax backed up a single step, taking away all the ground I’d gained. The tail finished its swing and started back for the return blow. This time he overcorrected: maybe he wasn’t as competent on land as he was in water. The tail swung low to make sure it made contact with me. It hit the ground first, sending up a shower of dirt and slowing the blow enough that I didn’t go sailing.

  The beast roared again. He reared back his head in the same movement he had made right before he jetted me with water, and I held out my right arm in a feeble gesture to block what was coming. Just then, something sailed up from behind the beast, arcing through the air.