The Indestructibles (Book 5): The Crimson Child

by Phillion, Matthew

  “Cover me,” Bedlam said as she stood up and broke into a run.

  “This is bad,” Billy said. “Hey, fairy.”

  “My name is Galinda,” the fairy said.

  “Galinda, go get my friends. Tell them we’re in trouble. The guy with the zombies is here and we’re in a fight.”

  “Which friend should I talk to?”

  “Any of them will do,” Billy said. “Ideally the one with her hair on fire, but don’t be picky. Just get them.”

  “Aye-aye!” the fairy said, taking flight and darting off toward the castle.

  Billy gritted his teeth steeled himself for a fight. He took a quick look at what Bedlam was up to and saw her darting between a couple of ranch-style houses, going full speeding locomotive on the zombie horde.

  “I’m going to regret this,” Billy said.

  So am I, Dude said.

  Together, they took flight.

  The accompanying flash of brilliant blue-white light was enough to give Bedlam the distraction she needed. The tattooed magician whipped his head around to see where Billy had emerged from and started yelling, but Billy was too far away to make out exactly what he was saying. Whatever it was, he didn’t get to finish it, though—Bedlam charged into the crowd, punching one zombie so hard its head unmoored from its neck to hang backward like a hood; she clobbered another one so badly it caused a domino effect, knocking over an entire column of undead as they fell over each other. Some of the more monstrous members of the nightmare parade reached for her, but it was too late—Bedlam was up in the magician’s face, rearing back for a punch Billy knew would be strong enough to literally knock his block off.

  Billy darted down toward the fight, then felt something heavy slam into his gut. The smell was overwhelming—blood and puss and rot, a screech that was half pain, half rage. He grabbed hold of his attacker and found that one of the mutated creatures had taken flight, lifting off on wings of patchwork flesh. Billy hammered the monstrous thing with a two-handed light blast, getting some distance between himself and the creature. It flew in closer, and he summoned a force field of glowing light around his fist and took a swing, batting it in the face.

  “I feel like I’m fighting a really angry bologna sandwich, Dude,” Billy said.

  I wish I knew what you meant by that, Dude said. No, I take that back. I don’t want to know.

  Billy shot downward, trying to get closer to the magician and the cyborg, but he found the fight had taken a turn for the worse. Bedlam was held aloft by an invisible force, the necromancer with his hand outstretched, Darth Vader style, gripping her by the neck.

  “I fell for your ambush once,” King Tears said. “You thought I’d be unprepared a second time?”

  Bedlam’s legs kicked violently as she fought whatever mystical energy field held her off the ground, arms trying to find purchase where there was none on the invisible talons holding her neck. Billy could hear her choking for breath.

  “Oh, you’re one of the failures,” he said. “I can see why the Children abandoned you. Goodbye, first edition.”

  King Tears gestured with his other hand with a yanking motion, and Billy’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw electrical sparks shoot forth from Bedlam’s right elbow. She screamed, in rage or pain Billy couldn’t tell, and then the magician used his other hand to throw her violently away, like a doll. She smashed through a nearby house with a horrific crash.

  “Bedlam!” Billy yelled, dive-bombing at King Tears full speed.

  Again, his flight was cut short by the winged monstrosity, which hit him hard enough to send him careening into the ground. Billy left a ravine of dirt and grass in his wake, spitting mud from his mouth.

  Shaken, he stood up, lifting is fists again to fight. The flying monster landed in front of him, and now Billy could get a good look at him—a face, once human, bifurcated and reshaped like a bat’s, with long, filed teeth and wild, pain-mad eyes. Behind the bat-thing, zombies closed in on him as well. Billy stole a quick glance over his shoulder at the house where Bedlam had been so brutally thrown, but she hadn’t emerged.

  “Finish them off,” King Tears said dismissively, already walking away. “They’re just a speed bump. We have an appointment with a queen.”

  Billy watched as the rest of King Tears’ entourage departed, leaving just enough of their forces to make life difficult for him. Great, Billy thought. It’s me against bologna bat and the contents of the local graveyard.

  Still no sign of Bedlam. Billy began to panic.

  “Dude, what do I do,” he said.

  You know what to do, Billy Case.

  He nodded, not quite sure if he and Dude were thinking the same thing, and unleashed a massive bolt of blue-white energy at the monster knocking it back and filling the air with the sickening stench of burned, putrid flesh.

  And then he launched himself backward, darting toward the caved-in house to see if Bedlam was still alive.

  Chapter 50: Knock

  We’re following a living shadow through a strangely tidy sewer system below an imaginary castle in a fantasy kingdom, Titus thought as they sloshed through a long, dark cavern. I guess I can’t say life’s ever been boring since joining the Indestructibles.

  Gloomly, as the shadow-man had been introduced, paused below a metal grate above them. Kate looked up.

  “This isn’t a real sewer system, is it,” she said.

  “I get the impression everything in this castle is idealized,” Titus said. “And given how powerful my sense of smell is, I’m pretty thankful for that. Should I get the grate?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Kate said.

  “I’ll scout ahead,” Gloomly said, disappearing up through the grate as Titus lifted it up and set it aside. Kate used Titus’ werewolf height to springboard herself up through the square opening. Titus awkwardly hauled himself up last.

  “Well, this is a dungeon,” Titus said.

  It felt like something out of a videogame—stone walls, slightly damp, grimy enough to be creepy, but also still sort of sterile. Too clean for a quasi-medieval prison. Titus sniffed the air to try to track Doc, but Gloomly had already started down the left-hand side of the corridor, leading the way. Kate followed silently behind. Titus held back a few yards, trying to keep his stomping to a minimum.

  “This way,” Gloomly said.

  Kate shot Titus a long, tired look that told him she was having the same thoughts about their ridiculous lives. She mouthed the words “what did we do wrong” to him, and Titus almost laughed, but caught himself. Unlike his own resignation, Kate seemed genuinely irritated that they were in a Disneyland version of a Middle Ages prison.

  After a few twists and turns, Titus caught the familiar scent he associated with Doc, layers of spell ingredients and authority. The shadow-man coalesced in front of a cell and stood at attention.

  “I brought them to you,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Doc said from within the cell. Kate strode up to the bars, with Titus following closely.

  “Magic prison,” Kate said.

  ‘Magic prison,” Doc said. “Good to see you, Kate.”

  “Glad you’re not dead,” Kate said. “I want to go on record. I don’t like that Titus is learning magic.”

  “I am well aware of this,” Titus said.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Kate said. “Will you make sure he doesn’t become any weirder than you are? You are the very cusp of acceptably weird as a magician.”

  “I will do my best,” Doc said. Titus caught him fighting a smile as well. Doc beckoned Titus over to the cell door.

  “I really don’t know much, Doc,” Titus said.

  “You don’t have to know much,” Doc said. “The problem is unlocking this cell is a simple spell, but you can’t do it from the inside. It’s very effective for catching another magic user if that magic user doesn’t have any friends.”

  “Good thing we still like you,” Titus said.

  “I’m glad I still rate,” Do
c said. “What I’m going to do is show you the hand gestures you’ll need to do to invoke the spell. There’s a secret phrase you’ll need to know as well. Part of it is in a language no one speaks anymore, but that’s okay, you don’t have to understand what you’re saying as long as you get the sounds right.”

  “Ancient Sumerian?” Titus asked.

  “No, but close,” Doc said. “I assume you’re not learning classic arcana with Leto.”

  “It’s mostly nature magic,” Titus said.

  “Close enough,” Doc said. “I prefer spells that ask permission rather than demand the world bend to your will.”

  “This conversation is making me angrier by the second,” Kate said. “Can we just get on with it?”

  “Of course,” Doc said. He began making a series of gestures with his hand, moving his fingers in a very specific order. He had Titus repeat the gesture back to him several times, then do it on his own without Doc guiding him.

  “You’ve almost got it,” Doc said. “Now let’s get those words.”

  Titus sniffed at the air and instinctually turned toward the corridor beyond Kate’s shoulder.

  “We’ve got company coming,” Titus said.

  “I’ll try to distract them,” Gloomly said.

  “No,” Kate said, rotating her neck to loosen her shoulders. “I’ve got this. You said the guards aren’t real?”

  “Magical constructs,” Doc said. “Not real people.”

  “Good,” Kate said, and took off down the hall at a run.

  “It’s been a while since she’s hit anyone, hasn’t it,” Doc said.

  “I think she needs the workout,” Titus said.

  Doc began detailing the words and phrases Titus would need to cast the spell. They weren’t complex, at least compared to any other spell, but it became increasingly difficult to concentrate as the cacophony of clangs, bangs, cries of pain, and other assorted chaos echoed down the hall.

  “Hey, Gloomly? Go see if she needs help?” Titus said.

  The shadow-man nodded and darted down the hall, barely visible in the low light.

  “Ready?” Doc said.

  “Yeah. Sure,” Titus said, but he was interrupted as Kate slammed into the wall as if shoved, ducking down to avoid the sharp point of a pike. The blade sparked as it struck stone. She roared in frustration and used the haft of the pike as leverage to whack the offending guard off the helmet with it with a resounding clang.

  “Wolf-man, the warrior-woman needs help,” Gloomly said, materializing out of the darkness beside Titus.

  “I do not need help!” Kate said, kicking another guard so hard his helmet and gauntlets flew off his body. Several more guards circled in, calling for help. “Just get our wizard out of his cell!”

  “She needs help,” Titus said.

  “Go on, I’ll wait,” Doc said.

  “Cast the spell, Titus, or so help me…” Kate said, leaping into the air, landing on another guard’s shoulders, and using her legs to spin and throw him across the room, his armor clattering and unclasping like as skier losing his gear during a spill.

  “Spell, right,” Titus said, nodding. He held up one hand, still fully wolfed out, and tried to say the words and make the hand gesture at the same time. While he felt more dexterous than he ever had before in this form, he couldn’t quite get it right.

  “Hang on,” Titus said, willing himself into human form. His massive frame melted away, leaving him standing there in oversized pants and a stretched-out hoodie. The stone floor was cold against his bare feet.

  “Any time now, Titus,” Kate said. She’d stolen a mace from one of the guards and used it to knock two more soldiers unconscious with it. She looked at the weapon appraisingly. “Huh. I like this one.”

  “Last try,” Titus said. He made the hand gestures—far easier with his human-shaped hands this time—and spoke the magical words as well, also far less challenging with a mouth made for spellcasting and not for hunting. He did not understand the words Doc gave him for the first part of the spell, a complicated series of sounds that did not remind Titus of any language he’d ever heard before. The last word, though, in English, he absolutely understood.

  “Open,” he said. And he was promptly thrown backward against the wall by a heavy gust of wind. The gate to Doc’s cell swept open, and Doc walked out, legs stiff, limping a little.

  “You okay?” Titus said.

  “Foot’s asleep. Been sitting a long time,” Doc said with a smirk. “Maybe you should go help Kate.”

  “Absolutely,” Titus said, smoothly transforming back into his werewolf shape. He bounded down the hall with a roar so loud it made his own ears ring. The guards, though, got the worst of it—one look at a three-hundred pound werewolf charging at them and the remaining conscious soldiers turned and ran, giving up the battle.

  “Sure,” Kate said, catching her breath and wiping a thin trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “I kick their collective asses, but you they just get one look at and run away in fear.”

  “I have good werewolf public relations on my side,” Titus said, his voice once again deep and gravely in his transformed state. “Reputation matters.”

  “Where to now, then?” Kate said.

  Doc joined them in the corridor, the glowing eyes of Gloomly hovering behind him.

  “Well, if I had the spell on that cell figured out correctly, whoever cast it knows I’m free,” doc said. “I suppose we should go have a conversation with him and see about setting Alice free.”

  “Any idea how we’ll do that?” Titus said. “I don’t know if we have enough time for you to teach me an exorcism spell.”

  Doc chuckled quietly.

  “Again, if I have my theories lined up right, the most important thing we need to make this happen is Alice’s trust,” he said.

  “Great,” Kate said. “Our success is riding on a twelve-year-old magician deciding a werewolf, a creepy guy in a trench coat, and whatever you’d call me are people she wants on her side. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Chapter 51: Beseeching

  Everyone else seemed fairly stressed out or horrified by the entire experience, but Emily was having the time of her life here in the pocket dimension. Her own dream sequence was possibly the best thing ever, and now she found herself riding an actual unicorn toward a castle out an architect’s nightmare.

  “I don’t understand how it doesn’t fall over,” Jane said, staring up at the castle. It branched out the higher it went with towers and spires spiking off in all directions, like a child had built it as a test of the stability of their building blocks.

  It made perfect sense to Emily, though.

  “It works like my powers,” she said. “Gravity and weight don’t apply. It’s not supposed to make sense, and that’s why it works. It can only exist in a place like this.”

  “I feel like it could go down like a house of cards if someone in the north tower sneezes too hard,” Jane said.

  “Also seems like a perfectly reasonable expectation,” Emily said.

  They arrived outside the massive main gate, a drawbridge and portcullis combination that looked like something someone who had only seen castles in movies would insist upon.

  The battle-scarred teddy bear patted the unicorn’s neck and turned to Jane.

  “This is her castle,” he said.

  “I assumed, it being the only castle here,” Jane said. “Any advice?”

  The bear and unicorn seemed to sigh in unison.

  “She’s quicker to anger than before,” he said. “And more suspicious. I still can’t believe she drove us away, her oldest friends. Proceed with caution.”

  “That’s us,” Emily said. “Proceeding with caution is our standard operating procedure.”

  Jane raised one doubting eyebrow at Emily and flew across the moat to knock on the gate.

  “We’re here to speak with Queen Alice!” she yelled, then floated back to the far side of the moat. The
y waited for a few minutes in silence.

  “I suppose we could knock the gate down,” Jane said.

  “Doesn’t seem diplomatic,” Emily said.

  “Please don’t knock the gate down,” Sir Teddy said.

  Eventually, they heard chains rattle, and the drawbridge lowered to allow them entrance to the castle. Emily dismounted from Silverhoof and caught Sir Teddy in a small bubble of float to help him to the ground as well. The bear shot Emily an undignified look, righted his armor, and started across the bridge.

  The interior was pretty, Emily thought, but not particularly detailed. In places the castle walls seemed almost blurry, as if recreated from memory rather than built, with spots that hadn’t been fully fleshed out in the creator’s mind. They followed a bright red carpet straight ahead, up a long staircase traced in gold. The unicorn seemed to struggle with the stairs in a half-silly, half-sad way, so Emily floated her the rest of the way.

  At the top of the stairs, a vast, ornate entranceway opened to the throne room. Armored guards in red and silver uniforms stood on either side, and many more waited within the chamber. The carpet ran all the way to the far side of the chamber, where a massive, gaudy throne stood. A small figure Emily assumed had to be Queen Alice waited for them there, a girl a few years younger than herself dressed in a fanciful red dress, a crown like a geometry problem atop her head. To her left, a man who looked vaguely like a star on a TV show Emily sometimes watched waited, garbed in robes of office the color of a bruise.

  “Who have you brought to me, Sir Teddy?” Queen Alice said Emily tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, the formality with which this kid talked to her teddy bear. Emily figured she probably sounded deranged herself half the time, but hearing it from someone else was a trippy experience.

  “Ah, strangers from another land, Queen Alice,” the bear said, bowing formally. “They seek their friend.”

  Emily and Jane exchanged wary looks and shrugged at each other. Jane gave Emily a tired, unconvincing smile and stepped forward.