by Craig Askham
“Don’t get your moustache in a twist,” he muttered, and took a purposeful stride in her direction.
Seven
Mr. Hood came to a sudden halt, and Idella Breck nearly broke her nose on his back. He smelled very slightly of sweat, and was that a little remnant of deodorant she detected underneath it, perhaps? It was a minor detail, but she would actually have preferred to just smell the body odour, as the whiff of Right Guard wasn’t particularly helping her disbelief to remain suspended.
“What is it?” she hissed, and he held up a fist to encourage her to silence. Naz stepped forward and shoved him in the back so that he stumbled forward. Idella turned and glared at Naz until he took a reluctant step back to his place behind her.
Recovering from his trip, Mr. Hood whirled to face her.
“Seriously?” he demanded, and she felt a globule of his spit land on her lip. Horrified, she took a step back and wiped it away with the back of her hand. Naz yelped as she stood on his boot, and Tregurtha couldn’t help but sigh quietly in defeat from his spot at the back of their little conga. Mr. Hood shook his head in disbelief. “You lot are really bad at this.”
“If we’re so bad at this, how come you let yourself get caught?” Idella knew it was pointless to get angry, but she couldn’t help it. Mr. Hood shook his head as if it was a question he’d already asked himself, but hadn’t successfully answered yet.
“I was wondering that myself.” He held a finger to his lips, and turned away from them again to peer around the corner of the warehouse. Naz poked Idella in the ribs, and she turned to see what he wanted.
“This is a trap,” he said. Idella flicked her eyes beyond him, to Tregurtha. He’d managed to return his expression from defeated back to impassive, and was giving nothing away.
“Do you have a better idea?” She fixed Naz with what she hoped was a steely glare, and waited for him to spout some gung-ho nonsense about storming the warehouse with swords-a-swinging. It didn’t come. He just shrugged as if to let her know that it was his job to criticise the plans, not come up with them. “No? You don’t think we should rappel from the skylights and shoot them with burning arrows? Or kick the front door in and slice them up while they’re in the middle of doing…” She trailed off, suddenly aware she had no idea what she expected the demon hunter and his acolytes to be doing inside that warehouse. “Whatever it is they’re doing?” she finished, lamely.
Naz shrugged again, then shoved a finger in his mouth so that he could chew on a nail. Idella shook her head, disgusted. She couldn’t figure out why she’d been paired with this idiot. He was useless. She’d done all the work so far, and it didn’t sit well with her that he was going to end up sharing her glory at the end of the quest. She’d been the one who’d worked out the clues that had led them here, and she’d been the one who’d taken the lead every step of the way. The only thing Naz Caliskan had brought to the party was his uncanny ability to empty his bladder at inopportune moments. And now, finally, when they were within spitting distance of finding Varun Behl, the very object of their quest, the extent of his input was to suggest they were walking into a trap? She ground her teeth and clenched her fists, desperate to remain in control. Don’t blow this now! The game was reaching its climax and she was certain that, thanks to her, they were going to be the first group of gamers to track down the demon hunter. She wasn’t sure how seriously the other groups were taking it, of course, but the sooner she had a few of these Dungeons and Dragons style quests under her belt, the sooner she’d be able to progress to the next level of her Stillwater adventure; heading off alone, without a hulking guide to keep her safe, so that she could have real adventures that involved actual locals instead of these soap opera rejects. Levelling-up was what this quest was about; nothing more. It was fun, in a LitRPG kind of way, and certainly a step up from the online Total Immersion games she’d grown up with. She could die here, on this beautiful and wild planet. Tregurtha was good, but even he couldn’t account for every possibility. A badly aimed arrow could end her life in an instant, as could a poorly timed sword thrust during a bar brawl that wasn’t part of the script. It was exhilarating! And if one day the unthinkable happened, and she never made it back to Earth? So be it. The place was going to hell in a handcart anyway, and in the absence of any family or friends that gave a damn about her, the only people who might eventually miss her were her workmates, and even then they probably wouldn’t quite be able to place their collective fingers on what was different about her empty desk. Those utter bastards.
“We need to go now.” Mr. Hood interrupted her wayward thoughts, just as they were about to take a turn for the worse. It was the first decent thing he’d done, even if it was unintentional.
“Lead the way.”
He nodded, started moving, and then stopped again. He turned to face her, a serious look on his face. It seemed like he was in the middle of an internal debate. Finally, just as she was about to say something sharp to force his hand, he came to a decision and took a deep breath.
“I really need that ring back.”
“I’ll keep hold of it, if it’s all the same to you.”
Anger flashed across his already serious face. For a moment, Idella thought he was going to stamp his feet in frustration. With a huge effort, he brought himself under control.
“Very well. You’ve just made an impossible job even harder.”
Naz jabbed a finger over Idella’s head, and piped up in a very smug tone.
“You can’t get harder than impossible, you cretin.”
Mr. Hood nodded his acceptance with his bottom lip pushed out. He breathed out heavily through his nose.
“Listen to me,” he said. “Because what I’m about to say couldn’t be any more important. When we get in there, you must keep that ring out of sight unless I tell you otherwise. If I ask for it, give it to me immediately. Do you understand?”
Idella was surprised. She’d assumed the ring was some kind of key that would gain them entry to the party, or at least something that Varun Behl had tasked his subordinate with acquiring. She looked up at him, wondering how best to proceed.
“What are you not telling us? Why would you want to hide this ring from your master?”
“Because he’s not my master.”
“Oh.” Pause. “Explain.”
“I don’t work for Varun Behl, you stupid girl. I’m hunting him, just like you.”
Idella wasn’t expecting that. Had she gotten this completely wrong, and inadvertently captured a fellow gamer? Had she gone off-script in a big way? No, surely Tregurtha wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. This was surely just an unexpected plot twist.
“Well, of course you are!” She looked uncertainly at Naz, expecting to see him slap his forehead to drill home the sarcasm in his tone. Thankfully, he settled for a theatrical roll of the eyes instead. “What do you know, we’re all on the same side after all!”
“We certainly are not,” the other man huffed. “I don’t know who your employer is, and neither do I care. I work alone, and even if I didn’t, I’d certainly never willingly work with a group of imbeciles such as yourselves.”
“Don’t lump me in with these two,” Tregurtha murmured, and Idella felt a pang of disappointment that the big man’s opinion of her was on a par with his opinion of Naz. She promised herself she’d change his mind by the time this mission was through. Starting now.
“Tell us about this ring,” she said. “I’m Idella Breck, by the way.” She thought about sticking out her hand, but decided that ship had long since sailed. Mr. Hood looked at her with a mix of contempt and frustration. She tensed, half expecting him to try and take the ring by force. Only one of two things prevented him; Tregurtha’s towering presence or, far more likely, the fact that attacking her wasn’t in his script. Damn it! Why couldn’t she stop thinking of this adventure in terms of scripts and actors?
“Fine,” said Mr. Hood. “What do you know of Varun Behl. Quickly now, so I’m not repeating
anything you don’t already know.”
Naz stepped forward, clearing his throat and shouldering Idella out of the way.
“He’s a half-god, right?” he offered, finally realising he had something useful to offer the group. Mr. Hood nodded impatiently, and made circling motions with his hands to indicate he wanted more. Naz was happy to oblige. “Son of the god Chikwirio, and his mother was a demon, which makes it kind of ironic that he grew up to be a demon hunter.” He grinned in Idella’s direction, expecting either respect for his knowledge or acknowledgment of his apparent grasp of irony. She offered him neither.
“Yes, yes.” Mr. Hood was just as unimpressed. “He’s half-demon, and he hunts demons. Give yourself a pat on the back. More importantly, it means he has no physical form on this world, and has to take over a mortal body in order to survive here. The ring…” He paused long enough to scowl at her. Seeing that she was unmoved by his anger, he forced a smile that was more like a grimace. “The ring that you took from me is a vessel, forged by a master blacksmith and a very powerful mage. It will draw the demon’s spirit from its corporeal host, and trap it within those red stones. It’s quite literally the only way to defeat Varun Behl, and the fact you thought it was just a ring suggests to me that you don’t have one of your own. Which leads me to wonder exactly how you planned on defeating such a powerful demon without one.” He folded his arms, obviously satisfied with his speech. He gave it five seconds, and then arched his eyebrows. “Well? What was your plan? Perhaps we can take elements of both, and form a new plan that’s absolutely guaranteed to succeed?”
Idella wanted to punch that smug look from his face. She’d already taken a threatening step forward when Tregurtha’s hand clamped her shoulder and held her in check. She tried to shrug it off, but he was far stronger than her and didn’t even seem to be trying. Naz drew his breath to speak, and she screwed up her eyes at the prospect of how much more incompetent he was going to make them both look with whatever nonsense spilled from his mouth.
“I was pretty much just going to stab him.”
Idella’s shoulders slumped, which at least prompted Tregurtha to let her go. The upside to having figured out Naz’s shortcomings was that, from now on, he could never surprise her. Mr. Hood snorted his contempt.
“That was your plan?” He couldn’t have been any more incredulous. “The most feared demon in existence, and you thought you were just going to stab him and save the day? Did you give any thought as to what might happen if you stab the mortal body that a demon possesses? No, don’t answer that.” He pressed a finger and thumb into his eye sockets, and massaged his eyeballs as if they hurt. “I’ll tell you what would happen; it would die. And then the demon’s spirit would leave the dead body and take refuge in whichever sack of bones was closest, which I’m guessing would probably be that of the idiot who stabbed him. So, unless the aim of your mission is to become possessed by a powerful demon who also happens to be an evil half-god, I’m going to be so bold as to suggest that you’ve not really thought this through.” He took his fingers from his eyes and held the hand out, palm upwards. “Please just give me the ring.”
“The answer’s still no. The plan was to use your ring from the start.” It was a lie, of course, but she threw all her conviction into it. Nevertheless, Mr. Hood remained unimpressed.
“Oh,” he said. “You know the incantation that activates the magic, then?”
“Naturally.” Damn.
“There is no incantation. I just made that up.”
“I know.” Damn. She pushed past both Naz and Mr. Hood, peeked around the corner to get a look at the abandoned warehouse, and caught a glimpse of a tall figure standing by a door. She jerked her head back, but not before getting the impression that the figure she’d seen was female. She smiled at Mr. Hood. “It would seem that we don’t need you anymore, Mr…?” She almost called him Mr. Hood, but managed to stop herself at the last moment and turn it into a question. When he failed to answer it, she continued. “Please feel free to leave, before somebody sees you working with a group of imbeciles like us.”
“Not without that ring.”
“If you want to come with us, you’ll tell us your name. Doesn’t have to be your real one, just a word I can use if I need to get your attention whilst we’re in there.”
He thought about it, and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind. He wanted to tell her a ridiculous name, she knew, just to get one up on her. He was struggling, though. Finally, he gave in with a shrug.
“Grujo.”
Idella nodded, and looked around the corner again. The possibly female figure had disappeared. It was now or never. Time to lead. The thought made her heart beat faster, and she felt colour creep to her cheeks. When she turned back to her ragtag group of actor, guide and idiot, she was grinning. She jerked her head in the direction of the warehouse, and cleared her throat to make sure the command she was about to issue couldn’t be lessened by a croaky voice.
“Follow me,” she said, and slipped away into the darkness.
Eight
Yooku Sangari gathered her thoughts. Or at least, that was what she told herself she was doing. In reality, there was only really one thought to try and gather, and that was the thought of hitting Rafferty Barnes in the face until his head fell off his neck. She tried telling herself she was better than this, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t better than this. She was this. A maelstrom of anger and violent tendencies she could barely control, and he was the one who had pushed her over the edge. No. That was neither fair, nor true. He was the straw that had broken the camel’s back. She was going to have a breakdown, no matter what. The doctors had told her it was only a matter of time. Rafferty Barnes, though, was the catalyst. The insufferable little wanker in the wrong place at the wrong time. She shouldn’t blame him. But she did. She’d nearly lost everything, after all; had certainly lost her career. Nobody had dared hire her since, and it was of absolutely no comfort to her that he’d pressed his own self-destruct button as well. He’d pressed hers first, and she’d hate him forever for that. Thank God Stillwater had come along and taken a chance on her. It wasn’t the same, though; her work here was never going to win her any awards. Nobody of any importance would ever get to see it, and that was what made it such a colossal waste of time. Still, the money was better than anything she’d ever been paid before, and had undoubtedly saved her from bankruptcy. And when she’d started to put the pieces of her broken life back together again, there’d been time for children…her real saviours. She’d probably never have had kids, if not for…no. She wasn’t going to think that. She hated him, and that was that. Nevertheless, the thought of her children had the desired effect. Her heartbeat slowed, and so did her breathing. Had she really just stormed off a set like one of those diva actors she used to laugh at? Oh, the shame.
Thoughts of violence slowly started to be replaced with thoughts of a cigarette. She was back in her favourite spot, although favourite was probably a strong word to describe any part of a warehouse. She had her view of the sky, though, and clean air in her lungs. And those moons…
The sound of raised voices drifted to her from across the street. The area was pretty much deserted, so there were no lamps to show her who the voices belonged to. Not gamers, she hoped; they weren’t ready yet. Realistically, though, it couldn’t really be anybody else. The game was on. Still, considering they thought they were creeping into the lair of a deadly demon, they could have made more of an effort to keep quiet, couldn’t they? Were they arguing? It certainly sounded like it. She sighed. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be working with professionals again.
Right on cue, Jida Alakija’s head poked around the door again. She was wide-eyed and panicky.
“Please, Veronica, I need you!” She was terrified, bless her. “I can’t do this without you!”
“Jida Alakija, you can’t call me that!” The feeling was sweet enough to cut through the remaining thoughts of violence she felt towards Rafferty B
arnes. She’d been waiting a hell of a long time for dearest Susan to slip up and call her by her real name, and the momentary lack of concentration brought a gleeful grin to her lips. Her friend’s hands flew to her mouth in terror, and she looked around as if an agent from the Professional Standards Department was going to leap from the shadows with a pair of handcuffs, shouting Aha!
“I’m so terribly sorry!” Her voice was shrill, and Yooku was forced to place calming hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. She was sure Jida had come here expecting to be the one doing the calming down, not to be the one having the calming down done to her. The irony made her smile stretch wider.
“Jida, I think the first of our gamers have started to arrive, so I’m going to need you to pull yourself together. I’m here. I’m calm. And I can’t do this without you.”
Yooku tried to listen for the arguing voices of the gamers, but it was difficult over the sound of Jida taking deep breaths.
“Right you are, Yooku. Pulling myself together. We’ve got this.”
Yooku looked over at the spot she thought the voices were coming from. They seemed calmer, now. They were possibly coming to an agreement, which meant they had to get out of sight, immediately.
“Uh-huh. We’ve definitely got this. Now, we need to get back inside; it’s time for our little cast to break a leg.”
With that, she turned Jida around and pushed her forcefully back through the door.
Nine
The noises got louder. At first Idella couldn’t identify them, and then what was unmistakably a squeal caused her to halt in her tracks. The others came to a stop behind her, and they all held their breath. They’d entered the warehouse through the same door the female had disappeared through, and were half expecting to be caught in the act of creeping through the barely-lit corridors. What they hadn’t been expecting, to be fair, were sex noises. Idella turned around to try and get Tregurtha’s attention but, even though he was only yards away, she couldn’t make him out in enough detail to be able to gain the big man’s confirmation. Not wishing to disturb what sounded like an orgy, or even worse, be invited to join in, she decided to risk a few whispered words.