by Bryan Fields
I heard Jake swearing and I headed to the storage room. He was face down with a spider on top of him, chomping down on his helmet. I gave it a shot of pepper spray and chopped down on it once it moved off Jake. I helped Jake up and we kicked spider corpses aside until we could get to the crates.
Jackpot. Both wooden crates had the bamboo-looking rune painted on them. I grabbed a hammer and pried the lid off one. Every box in it bore the seal we needed. I hammered the lid back on and jerked my thumb at the door. “We’re good! Clear the road!” I stacked one crate on the other and hoisted both in my arms. Jake covered the corners and kicked a few spider bodies out of the way as we charged outside. I set the crates down and grabbed the radio. “Marines! We are leaving!”
Jake and I wrestled the crates into the last two storage bags and lashed them closed. Rose kept up the air patrol while Harmony hunkered down so we could load the bags into the travel trunk on her back. The opening was almost too small, but the trunk itself was another dimensional storage space, so there was plenty of room once the shipping crates were actually inside it. We weren’t quite finished when the ground started heaving. I shoved the second crate in and latched the trunk.
A quarter of a mile away, midway up the mountain slope, all manner of spiders spilled out of a long-disused mineshaft. Rose swooped down to lay down a stream of fire, but the flood of arachnid bodies overwhelmed and smothered the wall of flame. She pulled up and started climbing, setting up for another pass, when the side of the mountain collapsed. I don’t have arachnophobia, but I still damn near shit my pants.
The thing’s body was as large as my house. Hairy, spiked joints and the familiar red and orange carapace. Mandibles big enough to crush a car. It screeched and started down the mountain toward us. Rose dove, coming up on it from behind. The spider sprayed streams of webbing out in an arc behind itself. Rose veered off with globs of the stuff adhering to her right wing. It kept her from flying straight, forcing her to glide in for a landing somewhere beyond the tree line. She was angry, but uninjured.
All four of us climbed on Harmony’s back and she took off. There wasn’t a saddle for me, so I sat between Ember and the trunk, hanging on to the straps for dear life. Ember was sobbing from the pain and the left side of her back was inflamed from the shoulder almost to her waist.
I dug into one of the cargo pockets on my thigh until my fingers touched the right plastic pill caddy. I pulled it out and patted Ember’s hand. “Can you take oxycodone?”
She nodded and I popped the caddy open, dropping one pill into her palm. I reached for my water bottle, but she took it dry. “Can’t breathe,” she whispered. “Hurts to try.”
I squeezed her hand. “Hang in there. We don’t have time for a side-quest to get you raised.”
Harmony turned, still climbing but setting up for an attack run. Ember coughed, clutching her ribs. “If I die, you better get me raised. Especially after you guys did all that crazy crap getting that damn war dog back.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled. She was talking about our last table-top gaming session. “Hey, the whole party loves that dog. Bagheera has personality. And we did get your character raised, too.”
Ember blinked and she managed a smile. “You raised the dog first. Asshole.” She leaned back against me and passed out. I cinched up her safety straps and looked around to see where we were.
The spider was ahead of us, skirting to the side and watching us. It had a clear path back to the cave it came out of, but it wasn’t even trying to head that way. Harmony turned on whatever Dragons use for afterburners and swooped down. As we passed over the monster, Jake and Miranda dropped the last of their tear gas grenades.
That got a reaction. As soon as the gas reached the spider, it recoiled, screeching and quivering. It turned and ran, maneuvering across the mountainside until it was well away from the gas.
Rose got back into the air, climbing until she was level with us. We circled, staying well out of web range, while it turned in slow circles, watching us through shiny black eyes.
Jake finished replacing the buckshot rounds in this shotgun with slugs and slung the shotgun over his shoulder. He looked down and called out, “I feel I was denied…Critical…Need-to-know…Information!”
“What can I say? I wasn’t expecting to need bigger guns when we’re packing Dragons.” I looked over at Rose. “Ladies? Do you think you can take that thing?”
“Why should we try?” Harmony asked. “We got what we came for and Ember is hurt. I say we head out and find a new camp site, preferably near a lake. Those degenerates attacked us. Now they’re bug food.”
“I’m not concerned about them,” I said. “I’m concerned about the innocents this thing could go after once it’s finished with these bozos.”
Rose looked down. “Target the legs with Arctic Winds. Once it’s immobilized, Green Death.”
Harmony nodded. “Basic tactics. Can we drop some of those stun bombs on it first? I don’t want a glob of goo dragging one of us down.”
Jake and Miranda huddled and came up with six remaining flash-bangs. They passed them around and we set up for our runs. The spider hunkered down, keeping its spinnerets aimed high, looking for a chance to bring one of us down.
As Harmony got into position, Ember opened her eyes and looked around. She fumbled in her shirt pocket for her MP3 player and plugged a set of ear buds into it. When she pressed play, Ride of the Valkyries filled the air, booming out of hidden, magical loudspeakers on either side of Harmony’s body. It succeeded in getting the spider’s attention.
Rose climbed and hovered, watching Harmony’s approach. As the spider shifted to cover Harmony, Rose dove. We tossed the flash-bangs as we approached the spider. Harmony angled to the left and went into a vertical climb, just as webbing sprayed out over the airspace we would have occupied if she’d kept on course.
Two flash-bangs lodged in the foot-long hairs on the spider’s head and detonated, knocking the beast off its feet. Rose backwinged to a hover, pouring ice and sleet on the joints where the legs met the body. By the time her breath was exhausted, Harmony was on the way back. Rose tensed up and spat a shimmering energy bolt at the spider’s head. The bolt struck home and encased the creature’s entire head in a foot-thick sheath of ice. Harmony pulled the aerial equivalent of a bootlegger reverse and dumped an evil, broccoli-green cloud of gas right on the spider’s midsection. She turned and climbed as well, leaving the spider flailing in spasms of agony and the whole area reeking of chlorine.
We got back to altitude, watching the spider’s legs slowly contract. We gave it ten minutes before moving on. We found a small meadow a few miles away and landed so we could have a look at Ember’s injury. Harmony exhaled a sparkling vapor on the wound, and it took all three Humans to hold Ember down as the poison oozed out of her wounds. We washed her back off and Rose ran the back of one talon over the wound itself. Ember stopped thrashing and went limp. When Rose moved her talon, Ember’s skin was whole and unscarred.
“I learned a few healing spells from my mother,” Rose said. “She’ll be fine.”
Ember was up and around in a few minutes. Harmony’s spell seemed to have removed the pain killer as well, as she seemed clear-minded and awake. She didn’t seem to remember talking about poor Bagheera, and I didn’t mention it. He might only be a hand puppet in a tabletop role-playing game, but I loved that dog.
Both Dragonesses were tired, but none of us wanted to camp anywhere near the battle ground. We loaded up and headed for Tianisa as fast as Dragon wings could carry us.
Chapter Seven
Turn In One Quest, Pick Up Another
Even with a bit of magic and a strong tailwind, there was no way we could make it back to Tianisa before sundown. We found a small meadow with an ice-cold waterfall cascading down from a glacier a thousand feet further up the mountain. We stripped out of our combat gear and bathed under the waterfall. Never mind the cold; it felt wonderful.
Back inside Harmony’s p
ortable roadhouse, we dined on noodles in beef broth and spicy pork dumplings. Rose and Harmony bagged a moose-sized red deer and split it before bathing in a lake. Harmony turned in again, but Rose stayed awake. I saw her licking at a cut on her foreleg. I should have looked at it for her, but she insisted the deer had jabbed her with an antler. I took her word for it and settled down to sleep.
Even with Rose’s support, it had taken me weeks to get over killing Randall. I finally accepted it; not just the act, but the burning desire for vengeance that precipitated it. It wasn’t who I was, and I needed time to get to know the new me.
Yet, I dropped Vikan without a second thought. What happened to me, that I was able to do such a thing? I don’t know any people who could live that way, and I did not want to become one.
Hours spent watching documentaries and History Channel programs came to the rescue, reminding me of a quote from General Patton: ‘No poor dumb bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.’
Thinking about it that way, the worries vanished from my awareness. I fell asleep thinking about cowbells, and woke up to someone playing Drowsy Maggie on the hammered dulcimer. Ember had the alarm set on her damn MP3 player.
Jake had made the last of his coffee for breakfast and I went to town on a sack of potatoes and onions the house spirits left us. The kitchen in the road house had a generous supply of herbs and spices, so I crisped the potatoes up in duck fat and seasoned liberally with Szechuan pepper and sea salt. We ate outside on the grass again, watching the shadow of one of the moons transit across the glittering rings.
Jake and I drew kitchen cleanup, so while we were scrubbing pots, I took a chance. “Jake, mind if I ask a personal question?”
He didn’t look up. “You can ask.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Yesterday I put an arrow through a man’s skull. He was the second person I’ve killed, and it didn’t really bother me.”
“And you were wondering how I was dealing with shooting and killing that woman who was throwing spells at us.” He rinsed his skillet and started toweling it dry. “Most cops go through their entire careers without having to fire their weapon at a live target. I’ve had to do it twice on duty, and it comes down to me being alive instead of dead, and good people being alive instead of dead. That’s it.”
“I’m trying to think of it that way. Not easy, though.”
“It never is,” he agreed. “The end never justifies the means, but the outcome of the choices you make does. I feel worse about killing that spider than I do about the people in that camp. That spider was amazing. However it got there, however it got dragged into this, it was a phenomenal, possibly even unique, specimen. All it had to do was crawl back into its cave and we would have left it alone. I feel the same way about the Unicorn. I’d rather have that woman’s blood on my hands than the blood of the children Smith plans on killing.”
He set the last of the plates back in the cabinet and started wiping down the tables. “When it comes down to it, I suspect Unicorn blood washes off a lot easier than a child’s blood does. Not finding out is a choice I can live with, so I do.” He dropped his towel in the dirty rag basket and gave me a nod before leaving.
I finished the drinking cups and gave everything a last swipe. He was right, and I could live with my choices without guilt. That also meant I could live without feeling guilty over not feeling guilty.
I looked around the empty kitchen. “You were an asshole, Vikan, and I’m glad you’re dead.” No lightning bolts struck me, and no waves of self-recrimination struck. “I’m glad you’re dead, Vikan, and I’m done with feeling bad about feeling good.” I dropped my rag in the basket and closed the door behind me.
Harmony was waiting for me at the entrance. She had one last look around and we left the road house together. She stowed the silk ribbon away and we took off, soaring through the early morning sky.
Ember connected her MP3 player to Harmony’s invisible loudspeakers again, continuing with her collection of Irish reels. They were perfect for the morning, and wound up saving us a bit of potential trouble.
Right after departing, we wound up zooming along down a roadway and found ourselves coming up on a caravan of Gypsy vardos. And these folks did look every bit the stereotype of Gypsies—colorful dresses, dark leather vests, thick mustaches, brightly painted wagons. I guess they associated loud, cheerful music with declaration of peaceful intentions. Crossbows remained holstered, ancient grandmothers smiled at us rather than hurling curses, and all manner of kids popped out the doors and windows of the vardos to shout and wave at us.
That plan worked so well, we tried it on the next village we came to. Instead of going for high altitude and skirting the furthest-flung farms, we stayed on course and broke out some Caribbean steel drum music. A few guards grabbed weapons, but most stared at Ember dancing her ass off and blowing kisses to everyone.
And so it was that the desert was crossed…
The elves of Tianisa would have none of it, however. Six Elven guards riding giant eagles intercepted us twenty miles from the city and made it clear they wanted the music shut off. Elves are such buzzkills.
Still, they escorted us directly to a vast estate built on a single, massive tree limb. The estate filled the entire limb, from tip to trunk, with a good-sized mansion built about two-thirds the way along. The building reminded me of Himeji Castle, and we were flagged down into the courtyard.
Chiburui was waiting for us with two dozen porters. Once we were down, she stepped forward. “Will my lady be pleased with your results?”
“Yes,” I said. “She will be very pleased.” I stepped off Rose’s back and started undoing the ties holding the travel cases in place.
Chiburui pursed her lips. “I see. I pray your confidence is well earned.” She gestured the porters forward. We lowered the trunks down to them, but left the cases closed and sealed until we got into the mansion’s greeting hall. Rose and Harmony remained outside to take care of their transformations back to Human.
Inside the hall, we found eight large tables set up, each one staffed by four Elves who reminded me of grad students sucking up to their professor for extra credit. Even before we set the travel cases down, Aiyliria pounced on us like a rehabbing Siamese on a six-foot catnip mouse.
“I hope your early return indicates phenomenal success.” She pressed her hands together in front of her. “Show me what you found.”
I opened one of the cases Rose carried. “Of course. Why don’t we start with the good stuff?”
The porters removed the first of the cargo sacks she had given us and moved it to a table. Aiyliria opened the sack and removed the first box. She checked the runes, the seals, and the maker’s mark with a gold-rimmed magnifying glass. She lowered the glass and exhaled, holding the box to her chest. She looked near to crying.
She passed the box to an underling and pointed to a table. The team at the table started an in-depth catalog of every detail and mark on the box. While they did that, she started in on the second box.
Two hours later, she had gone through the first two cargo sacks and was as close to giddy as decorum allowed. “This is indeed, as you say, ‘good stuff’. I am satisfied. You may now show me the not-good stuff.”
“Of course.” Jake and I wrestled the first sealed crate out of Harmony’s travel trunk, placing it on an open space on one of the tables.
Aiyliria undid the knots and pulled the sack open enough to see the end of the crate. She gasped and waved for her studmuffins to get the crate out of the sack. Jake handed her a nail puller and stood back. She pried the lid off and swept the packing straw out of the way.
She screamed. Hands in the air, jumping up and down from one foot to the other. “They’re sequential! They’re sequential!” She spun around, laughing and bouncing in place. “I never dreamed I’d see them! I never dreamed…” She trailed off, staring at the last sack Jake and I were holding. “Put it down
,” she whispered.
The studmuffins made room at the end of one of the tables. Jake and I set the cargo sack down and untied it. Aiyliria was visibly shaking, fingers pressed to her lips, hardly daring to breathe. When we opened the lid and showed her the cases, she lowered her hands and made a faint “Eeep!” noise. She put out a hand to steady herself and Chiburui rushed to support her.
“Two sequentials,” Aiyliria whispered. When she smiled, her eyes lit up and she looked a good half-million years younger. She patted Chiburui on the shoulder. “I will put up one of the sequentials tomorrow night. Spread the word. I want a full house. Be very sure Iligar and Varis are well advised.” Chiburui nodded and left the room, while Aiyliria turned back to us.
“You have exceeded my expectations, and you have my eternal gratitude.” She held a crystal out to me. I looked at it and slid it into the inside pocket of my coat. “Your contract is completed, and I will be delighted to provide a recommendation for your services if any should request one.”
I bowed to her. “Thank you, my lady. If I may ask, what is it we recovered for you? We weren’t about to open any of the boxes to find out.”
“Be glad you did not,” she said. “Does your world have zhu bears?”
“Yes,” Rose said. She and Harmony were finally in Human form, and both looked ready for dinner and a nap. She snuggled up to me. “She means pandas.”
“Pan-das. Pandas. That’s a good name for them, too. It has a funny sound.” Aiyliria picked up the box that was in the worst condition and caressed it. “When I was a child, Ereth Sul wrote the most wonderful children’s book, Tranquil Heart, Tranquil Paw. It was about a zhu bear named Karira and her friends in the Forest of Whispering Jade. Sul wrote twelve books about Karira, and my mother read them all to me, over and over again.”