by Gregory Loui
Gore’s eye twitched. “I have a bit of a temper. I know that.”
“Well, not just a bit of a temper…” Gore glared at Debbie. The dwarf chuckled, “More like a freaking volcano of a temper.”
“Hey! Yeah…” Gore sighed and fell back against the wall. “Ugh… I might have lost my temper with Bones… now, I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t come home since that night and well, I didn’t want to go searching for him. And who cares at this point?”
“Debbie!” barked one of the dancers. “We need to get ready!”
“Coming!” barked Debbie, hopping to her feet. Once the dancer disappeared into the darkness, she turned to Gore, her entire body shifting, settling into a fighting stance as she murmured, “You cared once.” Then Debbie’s voice grew strong. “You shouldn’t give up on your family. Even if he made a few mistakes—”
“A few mistakes,” scoffed Gore, rolling her eyes.
“Okay. That might have been an understatement.”
“Understatement of the century.”
“Whatever. Look, what I’m trying to say is that we stumble sometimes, we stumble and fall. However, Bones reached out to you. He’s been trying to reconnect. He’s trying to become a better person. Trust me, I got a good eye for them,” murmured Debbie, stepping up to Gore and placing a hand on the orc’s bicep. Her touch burned. “The least you can do is give him another chance.”
“You naive idiot,” chuckled Gore, caressing Debbie’s cheek.
“Better to be a naive fool than let the world crush me under its weight,” laughed Debbie, reaching up to touch Gore’s cheek as well. “You know…”
“Debbie!” spat one of the dancers. “We’re on!”
“ALL RIGHT! I AM COMING” roared Debbie. She snatched her hand away from Gore’s cheek and whirled around to sprint into the dance room. Just before she disappeared into the darkness, however, Debbie turned around and hissed, “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“I kinda assumed so,” growled Gore, shaking her head and rubbing her temples as she walked to the audience. She needed to find her seat before the performance started. Fortunate that the crowds parted before the orc.
Less fortunate that the chairs were meant for smaller beings.
Still, Debbie’s dance group did not disappoint.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Ruins
“A elvish priestess was brutally gunned down in a drive-by shooting. The prime suspect is a black-green orc male armed with a bolt caster…” droned the broadcaster imbedded into the Magnum Orcus’s dashboard. “Just another day in Tao Ein…”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her hands striking the steering wheel, Gore glanced out the window of the Magnum Orcus. Rain dribbled down the glass. What a lovely day for the magic fair. And a fitting setting for Gore’s current mood.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sighing, the orc threw her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes. Despite her protests and inner whispers, Gore found herself waiting on the curb outside of Fin’s apartment, waiting for Debbie to finish putting on her makeup. The dwarf needed to hurry before all of Gore’s courage fled her. Please, come soon.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her hand reaching for the key, itching to turn on the ignition, Gore itched for freedom. Her foot pressed down on the accelerator, yearning to floor it, to inject fury into the engine. To drown out the demons nibbling at her brain with the Magnum Orcus’s roar. To drive through the rain into the horizon, never looking back. To run away from it all.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Gore began to turn the key.
The Magnum Orcus grumbled to life, coughing and aching, bruised and yearning for its lost heart. Though she had just completed the black box, inserting the blood gem, Gore still had not yet installed the black box into the Magnum Orcus’s core. She would have to do that soon to complete the Magnum Orcus. But first, she needed to show the black box to Agnis.
Gore glanced at her scryer. Eight o’clock in the morning. They didn’t have much time left to look for Bones before Gore had to go to the magic fair.
Damn Bones to the Blight.
They had looked all night for the idiot orc and hadn’t found even a single trace of Bones. Gore shook her head, trying to organize her thoughts into a reasonable mess instead of the utter chaos sweeping through her mind right now. An impossible task.
But then a light through the storm appeared, bouncing out of the door, a rainbow spun into dwarven form. Gore’s lips twisted into a smile as Debbie hopped down the stairs from Fin’s door, spinning in the rain. Fin followed quite few steps behind, trying to open an umbrella. The halfling failed.
“Open the door!” he cried, stumbling, buffeted by the wind.
“As you wish,” growled Gore through a smirk as she reached over and popped open the Magnum Orcus. “So stranger, where you want to go?”
“I was thinking about this great Dwarf restaurant on Giant’s Grove, they got awesome butter bonefish and Yum-Yum Cha twenty-four seven there,” laughed Debbie, jumping into the shotwand seat after Fin dragged himself into the back. Then Debbie looked around at the Magnum Orcus, whistling, “Damn, I never got to actually sit in this thing before. It’s quite nice.”
“It is isn’t it? Wyvern leather seats and blood wood. Nice to bring it out now that I have some money for gasoline. I had to pull out some things, though,” growled Gore. She turned around to glance at Fin, who tried to find some dignity and readjust his appearance, tightening his tie and straightening his suit. “You all right back there, Fin?”
“About as good as I can be, all things considered,” hissed Fin as he pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping down his face. He readjusted his glasses. Over and over again until he got them just right. He whispered something under his breath.
Not to opening that can of worms, Gore turned around and reached for the key, growling, “Next stop, Elvenheim.”
“Wait, what about Bones?” asked Debbie, grabbing Gore’s hand.
“What about him?” asked Gore as her eyes turned grey and cold. Her hand dropped away from the keys. “And before you ask, no I haven’t found him. And yes, I’ve been looking.”
Not every well though, Gore noted to herself.
“Did Iron Tusk say anything?” asked Debbie, reaching for her scryer. “Damn, I should have gotten her number.”
Her attention drawn down to the small but inexplicably dense object in her pocket, which could toll her doom at any moment, Gore shook her head. She hoped with all her might that no one would call her. Not today of all days. Not now. Not before her triumph.
“You sure you sure you checked everywhere?” asked Debbie as Gore keyed the ignition and pulled the Magnum Orcus off the sidewalk, beginning the long drive to Elvenheim.
“I am sure,” growled Gore. There was one place, however. The one place she had not dared to look at. The one place she knew in her heart of hearts she could never go. Then Gore took a deep breath and turned to the road, avoiding Debbie’s gaze. “I am sure…”
“If you say so,” Debbie’s tone said she didn’t believe Gore. But the dwarf didn’t challenge Gore, staying silent as the Magnum Orcus pulled onto the ever-crowded freeway.
After about an hour of little to no progress, someone cracked at last.
“So you ready to present to the greatest mind in Valerian?” asked Debbie, drawing invisible figures across the window.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” growled Gore. Trying being the operative word.
Agnis Hopper. In just a few short hours, Gore would meet the nation’s greatest mind face to face. Thousands of questions bit at her tongue, churning out even more the second she gave her mind a millisecond to think.
A million different scenarios played out in Gore’s mind. A dozen glorious ascensions from her dark past, ripped up by a single stroke of divine luck. A hundred thousand disastrous descents further down, tipped over by a single mistake. No, she couldn’t possibly step even a single in
ch away from her path at such a crucial moment.
Then her scryer rang.
Gore ignored the violin strings.
Her scryer rang louder as if the circuits sensed her desire and decided to screw her over.
Like everything else.
“You gonna get that?” asked Debbie, reaching for Gore’s pocket.
“It’s illegal to talk and drive,” growled Gore as she tried to stop Debbie. She gulped. “Jagd…”
“Okay, I’ll answer it then,” chirped Debbie. And before, Gore could do anything to stop the dwarf, Debbie snatched Gore’s scryer out of her pocket and said, “Hello, this is Debbie, how may I help you? Oh really…”
Closing her eyes, Gore sighed and slapped her hand against her forehead. Shit…
“Watch out!” cried Fin, snapping Gore back into reality.
Her eyes snapping open, Gore swerved to the side, the Magnum Orcus’s wheels squealing, avoiding a ancient lady’s equally ancient car by a foot.
The ancient lady raised two fingers high as she retreated into the distance.
“Jagd. Jagd. Jagd,” murmured Gore as she waited with bated breath for Debbie to speak.
No. No. No. Why now? Why just before her big day? Why did everything have to turn to shit?
Her wyvern bone earring dragging her down, Gore forced her breath to slow, to allow herself some room to process her thoughts. Her breath disobeyed as her thoughts scattered. Could she abandon her brother again? Could she make that choice again? How could she convince Debbie? How could she…
“They found Bones,” murmured Debbie, lowering Gore’s scryer from her headphones. “Bones is at the old immigrant district, the Old Narrows. The one that got burned down a decade ago. He’s waiting for you in the ruins of your old house.”
Of jagding course, Gore shook her head. Of course, Bones would be there. She sighed. Now that Debbie had laid the trap, could Gore afford to avoid it?
“How?” asked Gore as her hands tapped the wheel, her voice echoing in her ears.
“One of Aunt Iron Tusk’s sons found him. Apparently piss drunk and hopped up on too many drugs to ID. They got him restrained right now. They say he’s calling for you.”
Gore started to say, “Can…” Bones wait?
“You should go to him,” murmured Debbie, her scent wafting into Gore’s nose as the dwarf leaned in. “He’s your family. He needs someone to lean on. He needs you.”
And family before all else, even the world. Gore’s mother whispered in her ear, urging her to forgive her brother.
The dark memories of Bones and her nightmares verging at the edge of her vision, Gore shook her head, clenching the wheel of the Magnum Orcus so hard her scars turned pale. “No… please no. Don’t force me to forgive him after all he’s done. Don’t make me go back to him. Not while he’s like this. Not while he’s drunk…”
“Gore, you don’t have to forgive him. You don’t have to do any of those things. This is your choice,” murmured Debbie, “But… you have the opportunity to help someone in need. Someone you once held close in your heart. Even if you don’t forgive him, you can help him save himself. Are you willing to let him to destroy himself again?”
“Damn it…” Why’d Debbie have to pull out that card? Debbie knew what Gore would do. Debbie knew Gore couldn’t fail her. Debbie knew how important this day was. And yet, Debbie believed they couldn’t delay going to Bones… her hands weakening on the wheel as she reached over and turned on her signal light, Gore swallowed down her fears. After all, Debbie knew better than her. “Damn you all. Damn you all to the Blight. I’ll go.”
“Yay!” cried Debbie, patting Gore on the cheek.
“But only for a little bit,” growled Gore as she checked the time. She had maybe a block of five hours before she had to start heading towards the college. “We go in and get out. Don’t make me stay or I swear I will rip off your head and everything else in a berserk rage.”
“And I’ll let you do it,” chirped Debbie, her hand falling down Gore’s cheek. The dwarf smiled.
The smile sent a shiver down Gore’s spine, crunching over the broken shards of her heart.
“Blight…” murmured Gore as she swept the wheel to the side and exited the freeway, turning back to her past. To the nightmares of ten years ago.
Gore shivered, the darkness growing within as the sun rose higher and higher over their heads. Silence filled the Magnum Orcus, though Debbie and Fin kept on nattering away, filling Gore with courage. But any courage entered one ear and fled out the other without even pausing within. She drove past the new Narrows, past her little apartment, passing by without a glance before driving into the Industrial district. Smoke and smog filled the air, choking Gore, mingling with her tears and the ball in her throat. The smoke towers and twisting pipes loomed high overhead like a metal jungle, bars smothering out her sky, smothering her hope.
Then the Magnum Orcus entered Tao Ein’s little secret. The Old Narrows. That locked basement of every house, where no one ever ventured for fear of the rumors swirling around the faded door. Every so often a venturous or foolish child would come within an inch of touching the door before someone who knew better ushered the child away. For no one wanted to awaken what lay within. No one wanted to reveal the blood-stained foundations of their world.
“What the…” murmured Debbie while Fin hurled into a paper bag.
Gore opened the basement door in a rush, revealing the still-smoldering ruins, revealing what her country did to its own people. Steam rushed into the air through a mountain of ash, broken buildings and skyscraper-sized rib bones smashed together as if a Kivir behemoth had trampled through the district. Gore sniffed the air, smoke nipping her nostrils.
Secrets lay burrowed here alongside countless bones, wafting into the air as vengeful ghosts. The ghosts stopped just short of ascending to the stars, blocked by the highway built over the ruined district. The ghosts’ whispers reverberating in the air, tendrils of grief creeping through the Magnum Orcus’s window at her, Gore swallowed down her fear and began driving through the burnt roads, weaving around massive tears in the earth and under crumbling ruins tearing on the brink of falling at the slightest sneeze.
“By the Forge Master,” murmured Debbie, her voice and hands shaking as she reached out and grabbed Gore’s arm. Nails bit into the orc’s flesh. “I didn’t realize that this was still here… still burning… how come no one tried to rebuild here?”
“Could you rebuild with those guys bothering you?” asked Gore, pointing to the steam curling off a building.
Gnashing teeth and glaring eyes swirled within the steam. Thousands of unburied souls, countless dying curses hung in the air, whispering defiance towards the world. Blood and horror stained the very earth.
“Oh…” whispered Debbie, her eyes growing wider. “Are those?”
“Yeah. The immigrants who died in the fire, gunned down by the police or incinerated by the fire,” murmured Gore, averting her eyes. She could not bear those eyes. She could not bear that weight. She could not stop to listen, lest she realize that she too belonged in the ruins. Never stop, she told herself. Never stop driving. “The remnants of their souls linger here, waiting for something.”
“For what?”
“For a mage to come and flush them out? For someone to come and apologize? For the end of the world?” asked Gore, more for her own sake than anyone else. She took a right, driving past the old daycare center. In the window stood the mural she had worked on as a preschooler, covered in soot and twisted into a nightmare.
For a moment, the past glimmered within the ruins. A crack in reality formed by her mind. A crevice between time and space. A window into the past. And through it, Gore’s younger self —only a couple years old— played with other orc children. Laughing. Lying. Leaping into the air without the faintest care. Gore smiled, tears leaking out of her eyes as the nana’s hair —warm and spice-laden— filled her nose. The old orc would cradle Gore to sleep in her arms for nap ti
me. But only for a moment, before Gore would go back to playing. Playing. Always playing. Then, at the end of the day, her brother and mother came to pick her up.
“Why hasn’t someone come to clear out the ghosts?” whispered Debbie, her voice echoing through the silence. “Why have they left this place alone for almost a decade?”
“I doubt anyone wants to acknowledge this place,” growled Gore as she edged the Magnum Orcus ever closer to her old home, driving through the ghosts and whispers and echoes of the past. “No one wants to acknowledge the sins of our fathers and mothers. Best we believe that its all buried in the past, not rippling into our present.”
“Huh, you can get poetic sometimes,” murmured Debbie, flinching away from a ghost that wandered a bit too close. Misted fingers spilled across the window.
“Don’t tell anyone,” growled Gore as her hands wrapped around her hidden pistol. Bullets couldn’t do a damn thing against the ghosts —not much other than raw magic could— but Gore still needed to hold cold steel. “Watch out for any movement in the ruins. Aunt Iron Tusk’s in here somewhere but we might have some unexpected guests. A lot of hobos moved in here after the fires.”
“They’re okay with the ghosts?” asked Debbie.
As a clump of ghosts spilled around the Magnum Orcus, Gore chuckled, grim laughter spilling out between her tusk as she growled, “The dead welcome all those forsaken by the living. Like I said, most of the ghosts here are harm—”
A rock tumbled down one of the crumbling buildings. Gore’s eyes whipped up to the source just in time to catch a brown wolf tail disappearing behind a burnt statue. A cop? No. Impossible…
“By the Forge Master…” murmured Debbie, “How desperate must someone be to go here?”
Gore just raised an eyebrow and focused her gaze forward as she wove through the remnants of the old park. Her eyes lingered on the mangled remains of a playground. She gulped down a sharp lump in her throat.
“How much further?” asked Fin, his seat squeaking as the halfling fidgeted.
“Not much further…”
Gore turned the Magnum Orcus into a tiny street, through a canyon of destruction and smoldering ash, with no more than a few inches on either side of the Magnum Orcus. For a moment, the ghosts crowded around the Magnum Orcus, lashing out at the windows in vain, claws crowding out the nascent sunlight, dark eyes filling Gore’s mind.