Reality Bites

by Nicola Rhodes

  ‘How did you do it?’ asked Cindy.

  ‘I just held on tight to the flame ducts until they backed up. Bit unfortunate about the volcano erupting, we got rid of a dragon but caused a natural disaster.’

  ‘Can’t make omelette without breaking some eggs,’ said Stiles philosophically. ‘On the whole I think that’s a big tick in the plus column.’

  ‘So, where the hell are we now?’ said Tamar.

  It was a swamp by the looks of things, here and there were gnarled trees, and everywhere you looked there was a variety of khaki coloured weed. The water was the colour of, well, what you might find in a portable loo, and occasionally it went “blup” in a disconcerting manner. And a nasty yellow fog hung in the air, swirling oilily, like a living thing. All in all it was pretty unpleasant, but paradise compared to the volcano. But oh, the smell.

  ‘Hmmn,’ said Cindy. ‘No exit, no guardian, could this be it?’

  ‘Surely not,’ said Stiles. ‘What self-respecting mythical beast would live here? It’s a mud puddle.’

  ‘Mud puddle?’ came an indignant voice from behind them. ‘My home this is? And who be you?’

  They turned and saw the weirdest creature yet, the easiest way to describe it was as a half man – half frog. As if in line at the legs counter it had mistaken where it was and ordered the frog’s legs, and also the frog’s cheeks, which bulged intermittently. They tried not to laugh, as it hopped toward them. ‘Who be you?’ it repeated.

  ‘What is it?’ hissed Cindy.

  ‘Amphibi-man,’ said Eugene. ‘They’re not dangerous.’

  ‘Ohh, not dangerous, am I not?’ said the amphibi-man. ‘Guardian of the swamp am I. And who be you?’

  Stiles folded his arms. ‘Cut it out “Yoda”,’ he said. ‘How do we get out of here?’

  ‘Not Yoda,’ said the amphibi-man. ‘Who be “Yoda”? My name it is Blarrt. And I am not showing you the way out, rude man.’

  As he said this, his eyes flickered toward the bole of a felled tree, large enough to fit a person in. Tamar nodded to Stiles, who had also noticed.

  Blarrt swelled up to twice the size he had been. ‘Defeat me you must.’ he said.

  Tamar pushed him casually into the water. ‘Come on guys,’ she said. ‘This way.’

  ~ Chapter Twenty Six ~

  Inside the tree bole was a staircase which they followed down to a door.

  ‘Cute,’ said Stiles. ‘I feel like I’m in an Enid Blyton book what’s behind the door, do you think – elves, gnomes, goblins?’

  ‘None of those things are cute,’ said Tamar.

  ‘Who is Enid Blyton?’ asked Eugene interestedly. ‘I have never heard of this Author; I thought I knew all the mythological volumes.’

  Cindy suppressed a laugh.

  ‘Come on people,’ said Tamar. ‘Are we going or what?’

  Not surprisingly they were all reluctant to step through the door. They all felt certain that whatever was behind it would be unpleasant and dangerous. They wanted a break. On the other hand, what choice did they have? ‘Maybe it’ll be a nice hotel,’ said Eugene, hopefully.

  ‘With a pool,’ said Cindy.

  ‘And a bar,’ added Stiles. ‘What?’ He said, as Tamar frowned. ‘I just meant for fruit juice, besides what are the chances?’

  Tamar pushed open the door, and they walked into a raging sandstorm.

  ‘Figures,’ said Eugene, gloomily.

  Looming through the swirling sand was a large animal, they could just make out that it was sucking the sand into its mouth creating a swirling whirlwind. As the sandstorm cleared, there emerged a large sphinx, which settled calmly on the sand and waited.

  ‘Wow,’ breathed Cindy, ‘it’s beautiful.’

  ‘They’re certainly mixing their mythologies aren’t they?’ said Tamar.

  ‘Is it dangerous?’ asked Stiles, practically.

  ‘Extremely,’ said Tamar. ‘I think I preferred the dragon.’

  ‘That bad?’

  The sphinx turned its noble and handsome face toward them slowly and with consummate dignity. ‘Well?’ it said, petulantly, in a whining tone. ‘What do you want? Are you just going to stand there forever?’

  Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘I suppose after Hecaté I shouldn’t be surprised,’ he said.

  ‘Ah,’ said the sphinx. ‘Do you know Hecaté? I have not seen her for an aeon, how is she?’

  ‘She’s fine, doing very well, as far as we could tell,’ said Stiles.

  ‘Still as beautiful as ever, is she?’

  ‘Oh yes, very.’

  ‘Oh, this is nice, do you know, I have not had anyone to talk to for, oh I don’t know how long. You must tell me all the news from the world. The last I heard, Osiris had just married his sister Isis, how’s that going?’

  ‘I think they’re both dead now.’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised. Killed each other, did they? I never thought that would work out, a beautiful girl, but what a bitch.’

  ‘Um, it was a long time ago.’

  ‘Oh, tell me about it, I expect a lot of things have changed.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you could say that.’

  ‘Well, you must tell me all about it.’

  Tamar interrupted. ‘Well, we’d love to, but you see, we’re on this quest …’

  ‘Not unless you can get past me, you’re not.’

  ‘And how do we do that?’ asked Stiles.

  ‘Shan’t tell.’

  ‘He’s supposed to ask a riddle,’ said Tamar, ‘and if we guess right, he has to let us pass.’

  ‘And what happens if we get it wrong?’

  ‘Guess.’

  ‘Oh right.’

  ‘Of course, we can choose not to answer the riddle at all, and go back in safety. He can’t touch us. But the catch is you only get one guess, you have to get it right first time.’

  ‘Okay, but there’s no harm in hearing the riddle, is there?’

  ‘Oh no.’

  The sphinx yawned. ‘All right, clever clogs, so you know the drill, but I’ve decided, I’m not going to ask the riddle.’

  ‘What?’ said Tamar, aghast. ‘But you have to.’

  ‘No I don’t. Make me. No, I’m bored; I want someone to talk to.’

  Tamar glared at him. ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘No, besides do you really want to go across that?’ He indicated the vast desert behind him. ‘You probably won’t survive anyway. Wouldn’t it be much nicer to stay here with me and have a nice chat?

  ‘But – but.’ Tamar was lost for words.

  ‘Look,’ said the sphinx. ‘I can make it nice and hospitable for you.’ An hotel appeared out of nowhere.

  ‘Oooh,’ said Cindy.

  ‘It’s just a mirage,’ scoffed Tamar.

  ‘It’s as real as you want it to be,’ said the sphinx. ‘Go on, check out the facilities.’

  ‘You know, maybe …’ Cindy began, ‘or no, maybe not.’ She finished lamely, as Tamar glared at her. ‘Except, well – we don’t all have to go on, do we?’ she added hurriedly, then looked at the ground.

  Tamar thought for a moment. ‘You really want to stay?’

  ‘Well, he’s not going to ask the riddle unless at least one of us does,’ Cindy pointed out.

  ‘But what about your promise to Hecaté?’

  ‘Oh, um well I …’

  ‘I could stay,’ piped up Eugene.

  ‘You?’ said the sphinx. ‘You don’t have any news; you’ve been here almost as long as I have.’

  ‘What about me?’ said Cindy. ‘Would you at least ask the riddle, if I agree to stay?’

  The sphinx considered. ‘We-ell, I suppose so.’

  ‘What about …?’ Tamar hissed.

  ‘I’ve decided, that this quest is too important,’ said Cindy. ‘Besides, after your noble behaviour over that dragon business, I think I can trust you.’

  ‘I’ll stay too,’ offered Eugene. ‘I may not have been out in the world, but I managed to keep the library p
retty much up to date, I have a lot to talk about.’

  ‘What about you?’ Tamar asked Stiles. ‘Do you want to stay too; I bet the bar is pretty well stocked.’

  ‘Very funny, I’ll come with you, if the sphinx agrees.’

  They looked at him; he hesitated.

  ‘It that or we all just walk away,’ said Tamar.

  ‘Done!’ said the sphinx.

  ‘And we have been,’ muttered Stiles.

  ‘You two can go, if you must. But I warn you, they call it the desert of dread. There are no shortcuts, it’s ten days across, and no water, are you sure you wouldn’t rather …? No? All right then, off you go.’

  ‘Um,’ began Tamar.

  ‘What?’ the sphinx said, testily.

  ‘The riddle?’ said Stiles.

  ‘Oh yes, forget my head next.’

  ‘Do we really need to?’ asked Tamar. ‘You’ve already agreed to let us go.’

  She walked past the sphinx and was stopped by an invisible barrier.

  The sphinx laughed. ‘You can’t buck tradition,’ he said.

  He cleared his throat. ‘What’s black and white and red all over?’

  ‘What?’ said Tamar. ‘That’s it?’

  ‘A stabbed nun,’ said Stiles.

  Tamar groaned.

  The sphinx nodded. ‘That’ll do,’ he said. ‘I would also have accepted “newspaper”.’

  They looked at each other.

  ‘Well, off you go then,’ suggested the sphinx.

  Tamar and Stiles turned to Cindy and Eugene.

  ‘Well, goodbye then.’

  ‘Goodbye, and good luck,’ said Cindy.

  ‘Yes, good luck, it’s been very nice to know you,’ said Eugene.

  They turned to go, Stiles turned back to the sphinx. ‘Doesn’t everybody solve that riddle?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s usually much harder,’ said the sphinx. ‘But I thought, what’s the point?’

  ‘Oh I see.’

  As they walked away, the sphinx could hear them arguing.

  ‘A stabbed nun? What’s the matter with you? Everybody knows it’s a newspaper.’

  ‘That was the one I learned when I was a kid, besides it worked didn’t it?’

  ‘You must have had a very strange childhood, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘You can talk.’

  The sphinx smiled and turned to Cindy. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘tell me all about the world. Who’s ruling Egypt these days?’

  * * *

  Denny was sinking. The loneliness, in his current state of mind, was driving him mad. He would even have welcomed Peirce as someone to talk to, or even Miles, his horrible bullying brother (a man built like a brick outhouse and with the same approximate intelligence) and his squawking wife, what was it Cynthia? Selina? Something like that. Breaking vampires in half just was not as much fun anymore. Once or twice he had seriously considered using the power of the witch to join them on the quest, but how the hell would he explain it?

  He had started drinking heavily, but it did not help, the dreams were not getting any better, and lately, he was seeing another face, the mincing vampire from his captivity, mocking him. He had tried to find out who he was, but without success, he wondered if he might not be Ran-Kur himself. What had he said? ‘No, not your god.’ What did that mean?

  He sighed and went out. He ended up at a notorious nightclub that the vampires had been frequenting lately. Keep working, that was the answer, hope that it would distract him, until they came back and they could finish this thing. She’ll be back soon, she’s okay; you couldn’t kill her with a sledgehammer.

  He leaned against the bar, staring moodily at the throng, he found it easy to spot the vampires these days, they were so badly dressed, besides he could see the void where their souls should be. They made up about two thirds of the crowd. Wouldn’t it just be easier to lock the doors and set the place on fire? But he did not want it to be easy; he wanted to keep busy.

  A pretty girl sidled up to him; this was becoming a more common occurrence; he really had that mean and moody thing working for him lately. He glanced at her; she was human – no question, he turned away. She moved to the other side of him. ‘Hi,’ she said, brightly. ‘I’m Laura.’

  Denny took a closer look at her; she really was very pretty, nothing compared to Tamar, of course, but then, Tamar was not here. For a moment he was tempted. He had been so lonely lately; it would be a distraction. He shoved the thought away.

  ‘You should go home,’ he told her. ‘This isn’t a nice place, and I’m not a nice person.’

  She pouted. ‘I like it here,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s dangerous for you to pick up strange men in bars?’ he asked her.

  She looked at him as if he was speaking in an alien language. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said and stalked away.

  ‘She’s going to get herself killed,’ he thought. He glanced around; the place was full of young women, dancing and drinking. ‘They’re making it too easy,’ he thought. But he understood the loneliness that drove them, the hope that they might meet just one nice guy, men felt the same, at least he had. ‘But you don’t meet nice guys in a dive like this.’

  He kept an eye on Laura; she was dancing now with some bloke; she seemed okay – for now.

  He drained his beer; the club would be closing soon, time to go to work. He stationed himself by the door outside. He caught two a male and female, each with a supine prospective victim, then he heard a scream, as he rounded the corner, he saw Laura, in the grip of a vampire. She was putting up a vigorous fight, but there was already blood on her neck. Denny grabbed the vampire, flung it against the wall and staked it; it exploded in a shower of ash.

  Laura was shaking; Denny took her by the shoulders, gently. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  She looked at him. ‘It’s you,’ she said in surprise. ‘You saved me. I thought you were a jerk. Thank you.’

  ‘No problem. I warned you; this is not a nice place.’

  ‘What was that thing?’

  Denny hesitated, then he thought ‘no point in pretending.’ perhaps it would be better if people knew.

  ‘That was a vampire,’ he told her and waited for the scorn and disbelief.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ she said, surprising him. ‘And you? You’re like a vampire hunter?’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it. The city’s lousy with them, you’d be better off at home.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson.’

  He smiled. ‘Good, now how about I walk you home?’

  At Laura’s front door, she stared awkwardly at his shoes for a moment, then … ‘How can I ever thank you?’ she said, lifting her face up to his, and looking him dreamily in the eyes.

  Denny patted her on the shoulder. ‘Stay alive,’ he said and walked away.

  * * *

  The Desert of Dread. Ten days across, no shortcuts and no water. Tamar decided it was time to “fess up”.

  ‘My powers aren’t exactly on top form here,’ she said. ‘They keep cutting out on me, as if there’s something interfering with them, and it’s got worse since we entered the desert for some reason. I just thought you ought to know before it’s too late to turn back.’ she waited.

  ‘Oh I noticed that,’ said Stiles airily. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  Tamar was genuinely impressed. ‘Oh you are good,’ she said. ‘Don’t you ever miss anything?’

  Stiles shrugged. ‘I might do,’ he said, ‘but not this time, what’s up?’

  ‘It isn’t anything important,’ she said. ‘At least not as far as the quest is concerned. It’s just that … I’m not dangerous here. You know to – Denny – for example.’

  Stiles nodded. ‘You mean you could touch him without burning away his insides or whatever?’

  ‘Yes,’

  ‘I see,’ said Stiles thoughtfully. ‘I see.’

  They had decided to travel at night, when it was colder, and slep
t during the day when they would dig a hole and hide from the blistering sun.

  Tamar was morose; she was not sleeping, she did not really need to, but she wished she could, the long hours while Stiles slept gave her too much time to think.

  It was the third night, and they sat on a convenient rock to rest for a while and eat and drink. Food and water, as it turned out, was not a problem, with Tamar on hand (even if she could only manifest egg sandwiches). But she sat silently and ate nothing.

  ‘You miss him, don’t you?’ said Stiles.

  Tamar sighed.

  ‘I know how you feel, I still miss Mary, my wife, you know? At least you know you’ll see him again.’

  ‘If we ever get out of here.’

  Stiles nodded. ‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’

  He glanced at her; she looked so miserable, and unusually vulnerable. He reached out and put his arm around her, she leaned in. ‘Tamar,’ he murmured. He brushed her hair off her face and then suddenly he was kissing her.

  She pushed him away. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t get me wrong, if things were different – I do like you, but …’

  ‘It is safe isn’t it?’ said Stiles. ‘You said …’

  ‘It isn’t that,’ she said.

  ‘You love him.’ It was not a question.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I just thought … well, what you said. We might never get out of here, and you’re lonely and I’m lonely. He need never know. Would it really be so bad to take some comfort in each other?’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t. It really wouldn’t. But how can I take comfort, when he has none?’

  Stiles’ face burned. ‘You’re right, I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

  ‘I could never betray him, he’d know, and it would kill him.’

  ‘I know. He loves you.’

  ‘And you don’t, you know,’ she told him.

  ‘No,’ Stiles admitted, in some surprise. ‘I don’t. I thought maybe I did, but I just realized, when you said it, you’re right. You’re very special, but you’re not “the one”.’

  Tamar smiled wistfully.

  ‘You know,’ he said, after some thought. ‘I reckon we’ll get out of here, if anyone can do it, it’s you.’

  ‘Liar,’ she said. But she smiled. ‘Come on, miles to go, and all that.’