Mid-Arc

by David Gosnell

  “The first thing you need to understand is this world is in great peril. The next, as strange as it sounds, is Ahtsag Znuul wishes to protect it. The third is that the armor holds the key to being able to nullify the vampire threat.”

  “You have my attention, Arthur, wielder of souls. Tell me more.”

  ⁂

  Shey found my tablet with Edgar’s presentation. The screen was a bit cracked, but it still worked. After all my stilted explanations, having the tablet to set it out was just perfect. That and apparently Bill, the librarian, has never seen anything like my magical tablet.

  I realized soon after that, he was just as much as part of the collection as its keeper. They’ve kept him in the dark. There is no electricity in this place. No plumbing. It’s totally sealed off.

  Some aspects of that are just gross. Chamber pots? Ewww.

  But Bill understood what I was telling and showing him. That’s why he guides me to a separate vault off the main library. I behold the sword and armor of Ahtsag Znuul. The armor is in its block with handle shape. The sword, well, it’s a sword in a scabbard.

  “So, you need the armor, and it wishes the sword, too?” Bill asks me.

  “Yeah.”

  “And this will help defend the world from the Dzemond?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take what you need.”

  “Thanks, Bill,” I say, moving over and taking the armor. I have no ambition for returning the sword to him after hearing what Znuul himself told me of it and having that embellished by Bill. The sword sounds evil. It can hang out here a while longer.

  “You do not wish for the sword?”

  “The armor is what we need, Bill. The sword is just wicked from what I can tell. Let’s just leave it here for now. If it really becomes needed, we can discuss that then, okay?”

  Based on the smile my gargolyian friend gives me, I think my answer was a good one.

  We walk to the front of the keep, the long hall full of stone gargoyles.

  Now it’s my time to have some trepidation. That hall is death. If he engaged those stone-cold killers on me, it would be over – quick. I look down at him.

  “You wouldn’t… I mean, I’m pretty vulnerable in there.”

  “No, you may pass. The fact you didn’t take the sword spoke to me of your intentions. As to the demon Znuul, who knows his motivations. But I feel you are sincere. Now, I do have a question – will you send me these moving stories you told me of? Like the presentation on your magic pad?”

  I have to laugh. They have kept him so in the dark about the outside world.

  “I will do what I can. But you have gatekeepers, my friend. There’s this whole other thing called indoor plumbing which is rather nice, too. Someday I’d like to be able to share the outside with you. Not just movies on a tablet computer.”

  “I have such a mess. Can you stay and help me put this back in order? The golems are helpful, but you must direct every detail.”

  Bill is very flustered at the mess we left. His eyes dart around, and he’s just plain anxious.

  “Vets! Shey! Front and center,” I yell out. They respond quickly.

  “You two are staying behind to help out with the rebuilding of this place. Follow our friend Bill’s lead.”

  “Sure!” says Shey. Vets thumps her chest and bows her head to me.

  “You’re in good hands, Bill,” As an afterthought, I remember Arix.

  I shout out, “Arix, do what Bill requires – please.”

  Chapter 34

  I make it out of the hall, and as I push the large doors to the entry open, I feel a great deal of relief. I look out into the darkness and realize I left my night vision goggles on the inside.

  “You there?”

  “Lounging on the stairs,” Znuul’s deep voice replies. “Where are the goggles I bought you?”

  “Lost ’em when I went for the hammer.”

  “Ooo… you had fun.”

  Remembering the layout somewhat, I take about four steps out. “Your definition of fun is a bit strange. Come get this armor and guide me out.”

  “Not getting that close to the door; keep walking. I’ll tell you when to stop, probably.”

  Nice. I walk ahead cautiously carrying the some thirty-pound armor block, my sword, and a hammer. A hand on my shoulder stops me, and I feel him take the armor from me.

  “Aww, do you want me to carry you out of here?”

  “Bite me, flying monkey.”

  “Well, as much fun as it might be watching you creep the stairs, it’ll be faster if I take you out and then to wing. I’ll drop you outside where I picked you up, and we can meet up at the hotel.”

  I consider creeping the stairs, strongly.

  “All right, make it quick.”

  I feel an arm go under my crotch, and I’m quickly picked up. He mutters some guttural words, and I have to assume we’re camouflaged. I feel us bound up the stairs, take a few steps, and ascend to the sky.

  Like last time, I basically close my eyes and go limp. As I feel us descend, I open my eyes and see we are outside the walls again. When we land, he releases me, and I feel the tingle of the camo drop.

  “I’ll take the hammer back.”

  As I don’t feel like carrying it back to our hotel, I say “sure” and hand it over.

  My raincoat is still crumpled in a ball at the base of the wall, and I put it on to obscure Yayne. “Meet you there.”

  Znuul smiles, camouflages, and takes to wing.

  Time to get walking.

  ⁂

  Once back at the hotel, I knock on Znuul’s door before going to my own room. It’s right next to mine, and I figure he got back well in advance of me. The door opens, and I’m greeted. I see the block against the wall with a cord running to a wall outlet.

  “I got it jump-started and directed the AI to the plug. Not quite life force, but it can filter it. You did good, Artie, but … where’s my sword?”

  My turn to smile at him. “Good politics to leave it. Besides, anything so vile I have to wear protection to touch it, ain’t my thing.”

  He nods at me with a knowing look.

  “I can get it some other time.”

  “So, does it still fit?”

  “Funny. As a matter of fact, it does. Thanks for asking. You hungry? I’m starving.”

  “You’re always hungry. So, you contact Kaanim yet?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Not on an empty stomach. Let’s call for room service.”

  Chapter 35

  Ahtsag Znuul bid Arthur a good night after a small meal. Well, small for him – more than enough for Arthur. Ahtsag had promised Arthur a debriefing after he spoke with the Phagorite, and that seemed good enough for Arthur.

  He recognized Arthur was tired and needed rest. Arthur recognized it, too.

  Znuul sat down in the large plush sitting chair in the room. Not so large to him. He looks at the armor, remembering the AI, its personality, and how they worked as partners – brutal and unrelenting partners.

  He walks to the block and telepathically directs it to prepare for him. Pads extend where he can step on them. He does and says “now.” The armor responds by slowly coating him in its nanite substance. He feels the penetration of the suit to his spine, creating the direct neural link.

  The familiar voice of his suit fills his mind.

  “Shall I disengage from this power source?”

  “Temporarily, leave the tendrils at the ready. We will relocate to the chair, where I can be more comfortable.”

  “We would not want Lord General Ahtsag Znuul less than comfortable, would we?”

  The comment makes Znuul smile.

  “My quip pleases you?”

  “There’s been some changes in my perception of what pleases me.”

  “Yes, it has been some time. I will analyze the changes in your neural patterns, Lord Devourer, and make adjustments to better anticipate your needs. Who shall we be destroying today?”r />
  Znuul’s smile widens. The AI feels so familiar to him. He’s sure it must be likewise.

  “No destruction. Just bothering Phagorite 47; reasserting ourselves.”

  “Phagorite 47, yes. Uppity one he was, but effective.”

  “Open communications to it, now.”

  Znuul waits and the AI announces, “Neural command structure established. Commune at will.”

  “Phagorite 47,” Znuul says aloud, as it takes less concentration than segregating specific thoughts to broadcast.

  He can almost feel the sigh through the connection.

  “Well, someone has their armor back. I am ready for your command, dread Lord Ahtsag Znuul.”

  “How many others have control of you?”

  “Only two, so far.”

  “Where?”

  “I do not know exactly. I would surmise in the Middle East up until the well-publicized…”

  Znuul’s thought snaps to the suit’s AI, and he commands the pain protocol to level seven. He senses the agony he’s inflicting and imagines the Phagorite writhing on the floor. He commands the suit’s AI to cease the pain.

  “Where is the other?” he asks aloud.

  “I do not know. Was that necessary?”

  Znuul senses the feeling of panic coursing through the Phagorite at the realization he just questioned the necessary nature of the pain inflicted upon him. That usually means he’s just asking for a whole lot more.

  Znuul lets the quiet work for him, sensing the panic and swirling fears of Phagorite 47.

  “You will say nothing of our contact,” Znuul says.

  “Of course.”

  “I will contact you later, as the need arises. You will say nothing. Confirm that you comply.”

  “I have no choice but to comply, most dreaded Lord Ahtsag Znuul. I await your command.”

  The comment of “most dreaded” rubs against Znuul. He thinks of who Grey Lightbringer brought him about to be. He thinks about the friends he made at the Chateau, in his dealings with The Protectorate, not to mention Arthur next door.

  “Phagorite 47,” he says aloud.

  “Master.”

  “You call yourself Kaanim?”

  Silence.

  “Oh please, Phagorite 47, this is not unpublished information.”

  “I am as you will me to be, dread lord.”

  “And as the others will to you to be.”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s see if you can earn that name – what do you say?”

  There is a pause. “As you wish, dread Lord Ahtsag Znuul.”

  “Fair enough, Kaanim; await my direction,” he says aloud. Then, through the neural link, he tells the armor AI to shut down the connection. Znuul smiles and leans back in his chair, knowing he just called Kaanim by name, essentially validating his delusion of self-worth.

  He knows the Phagorite is smart. And old. Phagorites don’t get old without being smart. Znuul chuckles to himself about how Bobby tricked him as he did. He also realizes that Kaanim is one self-serving creation of the Dzemond.

  “My analysis is complete. Your neural patterns have changed most substantively. Do you wish me to discard the old patterns? I cannot accurately predict your behavior with them.”

  “No,” says Znuul, “I’d like to review them before you discard them.”

  Chapter 36

  The knocking on my door wakes me. I look at the clock and see it reads 4:37 a.m. Damn drunks that can’t find their own room. Knocking turns to more of a pounding. Crap sticks, I get up and shuffle to the door. I look through the viewer and see nothing but chest.

  That has to be Z, so I open the door. It is.

  “Get your things together. We are going,” he says.

  “Good morning to you. It’s four-freaking-thirty, you know.”

  “Of course, I know that. I don’t require sleep the way a human does. We go now. Meet me downstairs, and do not delay.”

  He turns and leaves. I think our exchange was just a little strange, so I stick my head out into the hall and call out as quietly as I can.

  “We have company incoming?”

  Znuul stops and turns around.

  “Don’t question me, human. Just move as you’re told. We go now.”

  He turns back around, and I reconsider shouting some choice words at him. No sense waking everyone in the place. He sure is in one damn bad mood. Oh well, I know my brother in vengeance. If he says we need to roll, then we do. So I close the door and get it together.

  Luckily, I packed light. After my morning cleansing and a shower, I hit the elevator to find Z standing in the lobby, looking stoic with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Ready to roll, Z. Assuming we’re grabbing breakfast on the way to where we’re going.”

  He lets out a disgusted breath.

  “You can’t even find it in yourself to call me by my proper name? I am only worthy of one letter of my name?” Perhaps I should call you A.”

  “Better than A-hole I guess.”

  No reaction. Nothing. I thought it was kind of clever and on the spot. Heck, it’s the kind of humor I thought he liked. Znuul just strides forward, toward the mostly SUV that the valet has brought around.

  The valet hands him the keys, and he throws them to me.

  “You drive. I don’t serve you.”

  Not sure what to think of that statement. I throw my things into the back of the vehicle and take the wrong side of the road driver’s seat.

  “Where to?”

  “Bologna airport. Put this in the GPS.”

  He hands me a strip of paper with an address, not bothering to look at me.

  “Ok, maybe we can get a sandwich there.”

  No response. Not even a groan.

  ⁂

  About an hour and a half out from Rome, I can’t stand the quiet anymore. Znuul is usually a chatterbox about one thing or another, just generally engaging whoever is around. Today – he’s silent.

  “So you got the armor to work. You spoke with Kaanim?”

  “Phagorite 47, yes. He deludes himself worthy of a name.”

  “And?”

  I am greeted by the coldest stare I’ve been graced to feel in a while. I look back to the road.

  “It will do as it is instructed. As it was designed to do.”

  Without question, something ain’t right with Z. I can feel it in his responses, his eyes.

  “Hey, Z, uh Ahtsag Znuul, why don’t you take off that armor for a while? I’m thinking that maybe it’s having an effect on you.”

  He turns to me and takes my leg in his hand, squeezing harder than I’d like – a lot harder than I like.

  “The armor does not have the facility to affect one such as me. I control it. It does not control me. Know your place, human, or I will show it to you.”

  He releases my leg, and I feel good it’s still attached.

  Not sure what to say, I just keep my mouth shut and keep driving.

  Chapter 37

  We pull into Guglielmo Marconi Airport and move to the commuter section. Once there, we get out, unload our stuff, and turn our car in. Znuul is still strange, distant.

  Our things unloaded and heading for customs, I have to be a bit worried. Znuul did have a crap-ton of weapons.

  He passes through without issue, and so do I.

  We walk out to the tarmac only to be greeted by Frederick Reigner and a host of Paladins, including Gunter Herrman, all in formation in front of our plane.

  “Ahtsag Znuul. Greetings to you. You have taken something from the vaults of the Vatican,” Frederick shouts.

  Znuul smiles. It’s not the kind of smile I want to see. It’s the smile that says, “I’m going to kill you all and bathe in your blood.”

  I step in front of Znuul and try to diffuse the situation.

  “Hey, guys, good to see you…”

  My statement is interrupted by Znuul, sweeping me to the side.

  “I did not give my armor to anyone. It was sto
len from me and is rightfully mine. Come take it if you can.”

  Frederick looks at Znuul quizzically, then says, “Gunter?”

  “Ahtsag Znuul,” the big German bellows, “May we propose a brief cease in our hostility? Say a forty-eight-hour parley? We have information of interest to you and your efforts.”

  Frederick holds out the tablet we gave Gunter.

  Znuul’s smile disappears.

  “You use my own words.”

  Gunter smiles back at him. “You speak with Frederick. We need to speak with Arthur. Information will be exchanged, and we both move on.”

  Znuul seems to consider this for a moment. I think he wants to throw down.

  “Fine. Parley is accepted. Let us talk, Frederick.”

  They walk away to the side, and Gunter waves me over.

  “Well, what is it?” I ask.

  “The incubus Fxsigym petitions on behalf of your succubus, most seriously. It may be that the Order of the Light is the deciding vote for her pardon. We must speak with Yayne as he put judgment upon it.”

  “It?”

  Gunter actually smiles. “Her, yes. All the same, we require the testimony of your sword. This situation is most unusual.”

  They bring Yayne’s case to me, having been vetted through customs. I have no choice but to open it. I take my sword by the hilt and bring it against my shoulder.

  “Yayne, tell them what they need to know of Silithes,” I say aloud. “But please do not break my word of other matters. Please consider the integrity of my word in these things.”

  “I shall” he says telepathically.

  I hand Yayne off to Gunter who lays it upon the ground and sets Patricius upon it. Whatever is going to happen is now happening.

  I stand there helpless to influence what is happening with Yayne, or what is transpiring with Znuul. So I try to relax.

  “Ahtsag is acting strange,” Gunter says. “I would have expected him to laugh that I used his own words. I had hoped a little mirth might remove some of the tension.”

  He’s right. Znuul is not acting like himself.

  “I think the armor has had some effect on him. Honestly, I think I’d rather go with you guys.”