Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  The books Rachel had given him about the myths of this world’s gods were brutal. They’d force the lesser divine to birth monsters that would consume them or serve as slaves in the most humiliating or cruelest ways imaginable. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do to discuss it openly. Asking for details would just make her feel worse. Forcing his reactions down deep, he did his best not to let his discomfort show.

  “Got it. So, my divine orders are to break into a church and open a jar. That doesn’t sound too bad,” TJ said.

  Well, it won’t be as easy as that. First, it’s the church of Timarat. You remember that holy sigil you ran into? Think that times a hundred. From your perspective, it’ll teleport you somewhere nasty. You’ll have to make it through a self-aware dungeon before you can return. It’s not realm hopping, but it’ll seem like it.

  I can’t get a good look at what you’ll face inside, due to the magic involved. The dungeon appears to have mastered existing in the space between realms but still be anchored. If I could figure that shit out myself, I’d have a major problem solved.

  Also, I would really, and I mean really, love it if you weren’t caught. Timarat is gonna be looking at me anyway, but if he can’t prove it was you, I’ll have more wiggle room to pass the blame.

  So… I’m sending your Book of Shadows. All I’ve got so far is a single spell that’s kinda lame, but it seemed like it would be useful for keeping your oaths up while traveling. The book won’t be much use yet, but this means I’ll be able to update it once a day.

  I’m down to charming moths so they can fly into the library, but the little idiots can’t remember more than a few bits at a time. It took me forever to train them to open the parchment seals and crawl inside.

  Also, it’ll be a good thing you’ve got Abby. You’re going to be writing out music sheets ‘til your hand falls off. Seriously, hook the girl up, or she’ll be dead weight in a fight. Since her body was created as part of her pact, she’ll be a little more resilient than an ordinary human, but she’s built for sex, not fighting.

  “Pact?” he asked.

  Don’t worry too much about it, but she didn’t portal to Larton. Her soul was transplanted into a new shell as part of her accepting exile. It’s got all the regular mortal plumbing, just made with a divine’s hand.

  TJ paced back and forth in the golden light for some time. “If she were exiled, why would her ex-deity care? Wouldn’t she want her gone?”

  TJ, at what point did you ever get the idea that the divine need to make sense? Most of them are raging hypocrites and asshats. In this case, I think the bitch in question set Abby up with a trap. She had her list out every single thing she wanted in a mate as part of the bargain.

  Probably encouraged her to keep thinking up new things to add to that list. That meant the chances of her ever finding someone compatible with every condition became infinitesimal. It was the goddess’s way of keeping her side of the bargain without ever intending the debt to be called in. She even let Abby bounce between realms in the search, but if she couldn’t find a match before she died, then the deity would get all that power back, along with her soul.

  Since you dropped into Abby’s lap with most of your details obscured and enough potential to make good on the list, the bitch ended up giving away quite a bit of power along with the high-tier soul vessel with an amazing ass that can take a pounding. Unfortunately, that won’t protect her from getting messed up in a fight, and any dungeon that old isn’t going to be a cakewalk.

  “You sound worried,” TJ said.

  Honestly? I am. You might need some more help for this one, but… I got nothing. It’s a game of four-way battle chess, and you three are the only pieces I’ve got on the board.

  He asked, “How long do I have?”

  A month on the outset to free the herald. Sooner is better, but not if it means you’re going to fall on your face. I’m not sure about how long we’ve got until I’ll have to start cutting you back on divine essence. Those attacks from Timarat didn’t stop, and that’s pretty draining for me to keep in check. If I had to guess, it’s about the same timeframe or maybe a bit more.

  “So, I’ve got a few weeks at least, and I’ll need every bit of that time to prepare,” TJ offered.

  That’s the gist of it.

  Chapter 20

  TJ’s horse trod along at a sedate pace, causing his hips to rock side to side. No matter how frequently he healed his back, it would begin hurting again after a few hours.

  Faith didn’t seem to mind. She was draped awkwardly in his lap against the saddle horn and was dead to the world. The rocking motion that caused so much discomfort to him seemed to lull her to sleep. He closed his book on historical battles over a finger to hold his place and tried to stand up a bit more in the stirrups to ease the pressure on his undercarriage.

  After realizing it did nothing other than moving the uncomfortable pressure from one place to another, he began daydreaming of buying an enchanted saddle with his share of the loot.

  A pleasant melody pulled his attention away from the dirt road surrounded by trees and tall green grass. Several notes came and went, then came to an abrupt stop with a shrill squeak.

  Abby cursed and began using a small knife to tune the eight lengths of reeds they’d glued together. Some of the bardic magic TJ knew could work with just song, but most of the ones that would be useful in a fight required an instrument. Since she couldn’t practice those songs without something to play them on, it was something she’d been keen to rectify.

  He glanced her way, and when she caught him looking, she blushed. She gave him a brilliant smile, then went back to work. Whatever magic had transpired between them seemed to have settled. Since that blessing had flared to life, she’d doted on him nearly nonstop. She also kept sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t paying attention.

  The morning had started off chilly, but it was warming up nicely as the sun rose higher in the bluebird sky. Around them, grasshoppers jumped, their wings making a thrumming sound as they went along. A merle of blackbirds squawked in the limbs overhead.

  As he gazed idly at the clouds, he spotted a massive flare of fire in the air that caused his jaw to drop.

  Catching his expression, Rachel smirked, “What, never seen a phoenix before?”

  TJ shook his head slowly as the massive bird of flame flapped lazily through the sky far overhead.

  “They… they aren’t hostile, are they?” TJ asked as the magical bird slowly made its way to the horizon.

  Rachel chuckled. “Not unless you pick a fight with them. Given that they are immortal and hold a grudge, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  Just before the orange bird disappeared behind the trees, it gave a shrill caw that made his skin shiver.

  He was tempted to fly after it for a better look, but unless he was very wrong about its size, its wingspan was well over thirty feet. Given that none of his magic would do much against living flame, he decided he would have to sate his curiosity some other time.

  Uninterested in the magical bird, Abby went through her scales on the pan flute again. As expected from an improvised instrument, it wasn’t perfect, but she was getting the hang of it. After a few more tweaks, TJ saw a magic haze wrap around her. The pair exchanged a quick glance and shared an appreciative nod.

  Smirking, the concubine pressed the flute to her lips and aimed a hand at one of the birds on a low branch. Kicking off a song he knew all too well from nap time in his younger years, TJ watched as a soft blue glow infused the pipes, then Abby’s outstretched hand. The bird went from actively hopping around to squatting low and dropped its head under its wing. As she hit the final note, the animal was fast asleep.

  Grinning widely, she admired her work as Rachel steered the wagon.

  “I’d like to try ze sonic boom one, but I don’t want to kill ze birds. Any ideas?” Abby asked.

  Checking the contents of his saddlebags, he plucked an apple free.

  “I’ll ride ahead and dr
op this in the road. It should explode if you do it right. Just make sure Faith and I are a safe distance away. That spell tends to hit everything around it,” TJ cautioned.

  Pressing his heels into his horse, he nudged the animal into a canter. Once he was several hundred yards ahead of the wagon, his horse jolted its head side to side and snuffled the air. It made several nervous sidesteps and snorted loudly. TJ scanned the tall green grass and intermittent brush that surrounded them but didn’t see anything. He didn’t have any idea why the docile creature suddenly seemed uneasy.

  Not sure what to do about it, he dropped the apple in the center of the road. He’d just twisted the reigns to return to the group when a bush rustled, and a naked woman burst out of the foliage.

  “Help! It’s gonna eat me!” the chubby brunette screamed, then bolted across the road, tits flopping and arms flailing for everything she was worth.

  She was moving fast and managed to leap over a shrub and darted into the denser woods on the other side of the road. In less than five seconds, she had disappeared into the tall grass on the other side of the path.

  TJ was immediately struck by the odd air the situation had about it. No one waved their hands like that if they were scared. He’d seen a lot of terrified people meeting their end. They didn’t do that. What she’d done was something that actors did on stage to convey emotion for people in the back.

  Still stunned, TJ didn’t quite know what to think when an ear-splitting howl sounded nearby. His horse nearly threw him off as it reared.

  A werewolf in hybrid form bolted across the road toward where the woman had disappeared. It had grass stuck in its fur, and its long gray mane was matted flat as though it had been lying in the foliage for a long time. The male, as it could be nothing other than that with the floppy bits dangling, waved his claws erratically and snarled, slinging saliva around as though it was having a seizure of some sort.

  TJ blinked, confused, and wondering if the werewolf was suffering some sort of medical problem. The poor guy had moved like his limbs had been hit with a lightning spell as he slashed wildly at the air. He briefly debated spurring his horse forward, just to offer the werewolf aid. His healing might fix whatever the hell was causing the abnormal flailing and drooling.

  Despite his horse’s concern, TJ didn’t feel threatened. Werewolves didn’t eat people. At least not where he was from. As he thought on that, he realized the woman had seemed a little sprier than an ordinary human. She’d cleared a six-foot bush with plenty of room to spare, despite her dumpy build.

  He sniffed the air and could make out several different scents that might be wolves. He wasn’t a bloodhound, but the area had a recognizable gamey wet-dog funk to it, which might explain his horse’s trepidation. He patted his horse’s neck, trying to calm it.

  He glanced back to his companions, then to where the woman had disappeared.

  “Ah… fuck. It’s gotta be a trap, but… it might not be. I mean… it’s possible,” TJ groaned.

  He tapped Faith on the head to wake her from her nap. Not even the bucking horse had disturbed her slumber. “Time to go to work, little one. Tell the women there’s probably an ambush. I’ve gotta go save someone, or more likely just trigger their trap.”

  The cat blinked at him, gave a cute yawn, then leaped from the saddle to the road. She shot down the dirt path toward the wagon as TJ kicked at his steed to follow the werewolf.

  The moment he’d cleared the thin line of brush, there was another shriek a hundred yards away, “Help! Help!”

  Her pleas for help had a distinct over-the-top, wavering quality. TJ wondered if they were part of a traveling show, and he was being ‘punked,’ as Serina liked to say. He might find that they were quirky troubadours and had set up a little stage play along the road so they could demand a few silvers. To be fair, if that were the case, he’d probably stay to watch.

  Sighing, he grabbed his crossbow and loaded a bolt. He then kicked off at a gallop in that direction. His eyes tried to scan the area, but the field’s chest-high grass didn’t give him much to work with. He’d not see a surprise attack until he was right on them.

  Spotting an area of thicker bushes that seemed the epicenter of the voice, he pulled on the reigns and swung his horse wide to the right. He immediately determined it had been the correct move. There were many growls of annoyance coming from the undergrowth he’d avoided.

  “You’re not very good at this. Even I could do better, and I can’t act for shit,” TJ shouted.

  No answer came.

  “Best call it off before the women get here. They won’t be nearly as nice as about this as I am. I’ve got a soft spot for failed thespians,” he tried.

  Limbs cracked, and grass parted as four werewolves began to slowly circle him.

  “You know, I actually like werewolves. The world needs more people that can keep up with my drinking and make me feel like less of a functional alcoholic. How about we grab some booze, and you tell me why you’re all out here? Get kicked off your land? Maybe no one will hire you? Come on, give me a good story. I’m all ears and could use a drinking partner or five. My companions can’t keep up, and drinking alone sucks,” TJ offered.

  With a sour look on her face, the woman emerged from the brush. “You’re acting like we don’t have you outnumbered. That crossbow won’t do a damn thing against us, ya know. Now hand over everything ya got, and we won’t kill you and everyone on that wagon.”

  One of the men started moving again, making to flank him. TJ whipped a hand out and fired. More out of luck than skill, the bolt drove through the man’s foot and into the dirt. The man screamed and hunched over it as he clutched at his paw.

  “Oh, it still hurts like a bitch, but I really don’t need it,” TJ chided. “I’m pretty sure my cat could take all five of you. So… what do you say? How about we call it an early day and get absolutely shit-faced?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You sure are a cocky shit. Ain’t you ever been robbed? Now get down here and give us your fucking money!”

  TJ didn’t feel like admitting that he had, in fact, never been robbed, or even witnessed a serious crime committed, or at least anything other than maiming and murder at the hands of Devas. Instead, he double-checked the pouches on his person. Finding one untied, he fussed with it for a bit to make sure it was secured.

  He wasn’t particularly concerned. He’d lived around beings with so much power they could blast him to shreds with an unchecked wet fart. He was filled to the brim with magic, and five stupid werewolves didn’t rate.

  He looked down at his horse and frowned. Deciding it didn’t need to get tangled up in what was going to happen next, he slung his leg over his saddle and hopped to the ground. Grabbing its reins, he twisted its attention back to an open part of the field, then smacked it hard on the flank. The spooked horse ran for a surprisingly long way before it slowed down.

  He pivoted slowly and scanned the brush, trying to make sure he was only up against five attackers. He saw a flicker of movement behind him, which caused him to sniff the air. When he found the familiar scent of vanilla and lilac instead of more mangy-dog funk, a confident smirk broke out on his face.

  Turning back to the five bandits, he twisted his neck, eliciting several cracks.

  “So… you’re really gonna go through with this? That was a serious offer. I’ve got a few crates of booze with our name on it. We could finish one off and howl at the moon,” he said.

  The woman yelled, “Your coin purse and everything on the wagon. Hand it over, and we’ll only hurt the women a bit. Keep pushing, and we’ll make things really unpleasant. We might give them back in pieces once we’re done with them.”

  One of the wolves looked at her and shook its head.

  She hissed, “Fuck you, Troy. You know what that black-robed fucker from Larton said. He’s got a shitload of gold.”

  He filed that tidbit away for future use. He couldn’t do anything about it anytime soon, but he’d follow up w
ith the likely culprit later. His magic pulsed angrily as he glared at the werewolves, and TJ decided he was beyond done with this shit.

  “Last chance to apologize and back the fuck off,” he growled back.

  The woman he’d been speaking with twisted her neck as she began to shift. That was as much of an answer as he was going to get. Werewolves couldn’t talk in hybrid form, so there really wasn’t much of a point of trying to continue the discussion, but they could still listen. That was enough to work to his advantage.

  TJ’s voice came out cold and even, “You see, here’s the problem. I could have let a lot slide, but you threatened my companions. That’s where I draw the line. You tried to rob us, but you all fucked up, and now you’re all packed in, nice and tight around me.”

  Sensing his trap, the one to his right snuffled the air and held out a claw to the others as he began whipping his head back and forth, searching the surrounding grass.

  TJ gave an evil grin. “Yeah… that’s it, nose in nice and close. If you get a good whiff, you might even notice I’m not human. Although I do know a pretty little bard and a stunning swordswoman that need some live target practice with their new talents, and I’m gonna make sure they get it.”

  TJ whipped out his wings and leaped straight up. The pack rushed him, but he was already a dozen feet off the ground with only two flaps. He pumped the air and turned back to see bright red hair weaving between clumps of grass.

  Abby held up her pipes, and notes flowed out at a furious pace. She ended in a solid tone.

  With a flash of gold, the grass flattened as a thundering wall of pressure detonated around the werewolves. Each one of them was knocked flat and left clutching at their ears while they screamed in pain.

  Not willing to give them a break, the newly-minted bard held out her hand and hit another rapid series of notes. Brilliant white lights flashed from her palm, causing the bandits to roar in agony as they clutched at their blinded eyes.

  Emerging from a small bush, Rachel rushed in, Faith in her free hand. Practically hurling the cat at the feet of the werewolves, Rachel glowed with a golden light as her sword flashed in an arc. The first wolf’s head fell from its body, then another caught her blade to the chest. The beast backpedaled, clutching at the non-fatal wound, and trying to shake off the blindness of Abby’s spell.