by Andrew Smith
The flashes stopped. Mme. Rumella scanned the skies. Her nephew was still up there, looking frightened and indecisive. For the most part, Benny’s skills were more suited to the occasional schoolhouse brawl, which was broken up quickly as it began. The Beast of the Sands had known some tricks, but nothing like this. Mme. Rumella tried to find Wyyla, but didn’t see her. She could only hope that the sprite was still alive and well, and waiting. Mme. Rumella stepped out from behind the collapsed column. She glided silently towards the necromancer’s back. She looked up at her nephew, indicating Ruin with her eyes. He nodded. She would have to assume that he understood.
She moved forward, step by deathly hushed step as Benny glided near above. Ruin stiffened. He seemed to sense something. Benny knew his cue when he saw it. The harshest spell he knew was the one he had used to finally kill the desert-dwelling monster earlier on his break. The words were in an old Scandinavian language, he didn’t know which. Ice storm.
He called them at the top of his voice. The air stilled with the cold and moved with the wind. Scraps of snow and razor shards of ice fanned down on him. Ruin raised his hand to stop it, but just as suddenly was doubled over, clutching his chest. Mme. Rumella could swear she heard ribs snapping. Bless Wyyla and her tiny sprite strength.
Mme. Rumella crept forward still. With a wave of his hand, Ruin swatted Benny from the sky. He held his fist up in front of him, though he could still not stand quite straight.
“Damn you creatures!” Ruin shouted. Mme. Rumella presumed he had caught Wyyla in his fist. “First I’m going to crush you, then I’m going to visit horrors upon all of your kind, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me! “
“If you’re going to crush me,” Wyyla returned defiantly, “then crush me!”
He never got the chance. Mme. Rumella brought up her wand as it changed into the ten pound sledge she had used many years ago to stop another necromancer by destroying the Focus of his sorcery.
She struck him in the back of the head.
He fell.
She struck him again.
The Standard still glowed, otherworldly. Mme. Rumella took two steps towards it. “Please, stop that,” she said, and it promptly did. Once again it was just a cylinder, inscribed with words no-one could read. “You seem listen to anyone who speaks,” she said to the lifeless object. “Perhaps,” she advised it, “you should be a touch more choosey in the future.”
All of a sudden, there was two-foot-tall, winged woman standing on Ruin’s hand. “Good work,” she said.
“The same to you, my winged wonder: you were incredible. But now, we have to get all these people to Persephone’s.”
Wyyla nodded and they set to work.
Hospice Ward
Leila wondered whether the large room would be called a ‘ward’, when it was part of a hospice rather than a hospital. It was certainly more pleasant that a normal-world hospital, with its fluorescent lighting, disinfectant smell, and fluorescent lighting. Leila really despised fluorescent lighting. She inhaled the pleasant incense that filled the place. The lighting was even and sunny, which, she had been assured by people more experienced in these matters than she, was very impressive.
Leila sat in her wheelchair by the wall and surveyed the scene in front of her. Mme. Rumella, Hunter Blue, and Voz sat in guest chairs along one long wall to her left. Benny was in the bed nearest her. He, like Leila, was cured but convalescing. His impact had shattered every bone in his left arm, two ribs, and fractured his tibia. Luckily, the talented women of the Persephone Hospice laughed at broken bones. That is, if they did laugh at all. They were all kind of spacey, white-robe-wearing earth mother types. But very polite. Leila liked them
Beyond him lay Mary, and then Grace. The knives were indeed designed to resist on-the-spot healing, but the healers took care of them. Still, she had lost a lot of blood and was in and out of consciousness. Van was in a chair at her side. The farthest bed was occupied by Delilah Runestone. Wyyla had insisted they share a room with her. She lay covered only by the cotton sheet, her body smeared with a white balm. Presumably the sprite was somewhere in the room
“So, Delilah,” Mme. Rumella started, “I believe you have some explanations to give.”
“Yes, that’s true. But... can you tell me what happened to Damon?”
“I, er, we’re not exactly sure,” Voz admitted. “I sang to him, and he handed over his device.”
“I need to learn that trick,” Delilah murmured.
“We were in the air. He fell to the ground, but it was all misty. I guess that snapped him out of it. I’m not really sure, I’ve never actually, y’know, enthralled anyone before. On purpose. I screamed at the device to destroy it. Some general advice,” Voz offered: “if you ever have to dispose of a Sorcery Core, be careful. I was thrown a good forty miles and crashed into a tree. When I got back, Damon was gone. We looked for him for a while, but decided to get back and see what was happening. By the time we got your note, the fight was over. Sorry about that.”
“No trouble, Voz. We managed,” Mme. Rumella said dismissively
“You guys sure made a mess of the hill,” Voz remarked.
“It was like that before,” said Leila. “Which is kind of weird. I mean, if the hill appeared here in the fifth century B.C., shouldn’t it be in the same, freshly built state as it was in ancient Rome?”
“That was my fault, from my last confrontation with Ruin,” Mary informed her. “Funny,” she remarked, “how we had another Life Squad ending.”
“Sometimes a hammer to the skull is the only solution,” Mme. Rumella commented, with perhaps a little defensiveness in her voice
Mary had been completely paralyzed. The healers managed to move her into a reclining position, but she still couldn’t move herself. They were restoring her bit by bit. Right now, she could blink and talk, but that was about it. The neck muscles required to move her head were still disabled.
“I can’t believe you wrecked the Palatine Hill. That makes me sad,” said Leila
“Delilah,” Mme. Rumella prompted
“I didn’t want to interrupt, that’s all.”
“You’re not interrupting now,” she replied.
Delilah exhaled heavily and began her story. “I was having a crisis of faith, I guess you could call it. I began to study dark sorcery because of... an incident when I was young. With Damon, and we both swore not to be like other dark sorcerers. But it’s more difficult than you would think. It’s like there is some strange pressure, pushing you into the traditional role of the dark ones. I was worried. I went to see Tina Virtue.”
Mary scoffed.
Delilah continued. “See told me that I was strong enough to resist. And she said something I didn’t quite understand: that at least some small part of everyone’s fate was determined.”
“So you went to see Mr. Markab,” Mme. Rumella supplied, recalling the sight of the nervous and irritable Delilah in his waiting room
“Yes. And he told me about Miguel Suerte.”
Hunter perked up.
“He said that he was destined to become mayor. I asked him what that had to do with me,” she said, troubled. “And he told me that Suerte’s and my fates where intertwined. He couldn’t say why but he did say that...Suerte’s actions would bring him into conflict with virtually everyone here. And that my destiny was to stop him. Mr. Markab said that Suerte had heavily shrouded his destiny, which usually meant that someone was relentlessly pursuing something they believed the could achieve.”
“Seek and you shall find,” Grace suggested, still half asleep. “My mantra.”
“How about seek and you shall be severely injured.” Van suggested.
“So he ‘pierced the shroud’, however you do that, and said he was looking for the Standard of Uruk.”
Everyone was shocked, but said nothing as Delilah continued
“When I came into your shop last week, I basically knew nothing but the name of the thing. But I saw you were involved
with the Crusader and I figured you could me out, I just didn’t think you would do it willingly.”
“So you did the reverse psychology thing? It worked well enough, didn’t it? Speaking of the Crusader, though, what happened to him?”
“Very sad, pet. The healers said they couldn’t do anything for him, and they in fact had no idea how Ruin could have done what he did.”
Leila heard a clank. She peered over her shoulder, out the window. “Is that so? Then I have another question.”
“What is it?”
“Who is that?” Leila asked, pointing out the window.
Everyone craned to see. The Crusader stood on the street in front of the building, in full armored form. He looked around to get his bearings and set off.
“Isn’t that interesting?” Voz commented
“What is it?” Mary asked
Leila described it for her. “And I think he’s headed back...”
“Back to the Palatine Hill?” Mary puzzled
“The Standard is still there,” Mme. Rumella explained. “We couldn’t move it. I think during all the reality shifting, the bottom of it became fused to that table, well, table-like entity on which it was resting. But back to Delilah, please.”
“Well, I was out, and Ruin found me, at the Nightlight, and tried to... I don’t know. Co-opt me into his service maybe? Whatever he wanted, I wanted no part of it, and we got in a bit of a fight.”
“And you got out of it totally unharmed?” Leila wondered
“He did the same thing to my arm that he did to your leg. That’ll be numb for a few days, by the way.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, it was totally out of the blue. I knew of Ruin, but never had anything to do with him, so I was suspicious that he was somehow involved. I couldn’t think of any other reason he would talk to me, seeing as I had a fairly evil-free record. But then I ran into Damon, right outside Suerte’s house, and I became suspicious of him, and he had that thing, so I thought it might be the Standard, and we all know what happened with that.”
“But what about Suerte?” Hunter asked.
“Nobody had any idea that he was involved,” Voz remarked. “I guess everyone, except you, Hunter, thought of him as some harmless loon.”
“He’s far from,” Mme. Rumella commented, “Harmless, that is. Probably still a loon.”
“I still don’t understand how Ruin ended up with the Standard if it was Suerte who wanted it,” Leila said, face wound in concentration. “Or how he knew about the thing in the first place, especially considering that between the museums and the Mulhoy, there was only one person who had heard of the Standard of Uruk.”
“Suerte is well versed in the ancient devices, pet. Remember, he supplied Lionel with the crystal for his spell all those years ago.”
“Even so, that doesn’t answer my question about Ruin. Why hire Mr.Grr-I’m-going-to-unlease-madness?””
“He was busy,” said Delilah. “The rules of the election state that a person can be ‘elected’ mayor without a single vote being cast, so long as there is only one candidate, and citizens have ample knowledge of the campaign.”
“Hence all the posters,” Benny chimed in
“And the podiums,” Hunter added
“And speeches, and the big ‘Suerte Campaign Headquarters’ banner,” Delilah finished for them. “There’s a whole list of things you can do. He was putting in appearances all over the city so that he could become mayor.”
“So,” Mme. Rumella deduced, “his hands full with the campaign, he needed someone else to retrieve the Standard, and discover how to use it. So he contacted Lionel, an old associate who was no longer powerful or influential enough to affect Suerte personally, and who could be bought with promises of the same.”
“But again,” inquired Leila impatiently, “what about Ruin?”
“I’ll be sure to ask him about that before I slice his damn head off,” Hunter assured her
“Be sure to do it with a flaming sword,” Mme. Rumella told him, “it’s something of a mayoral tradition.”
“Maybe he was an enforcer,” Grace suggested, somewhat more conscious now. “He was having a hell of a time using the Standard, which would obviously be enough power for whatever his,” she tried not to laugh, but failed, “dastardly mayoral plans were.” Most of the others joined her laughter for a few moments before she could continue. “So he needed a back up plan, someone with muscle, or maybe swarms of the ancient dead or giant insects or something, to pull them off, just in case.”
Mme. Rumella nodded. “Possible,” she said.
There was a short pause while Mary considered. “If Ruin knew anything about Suerte’s efforts to use the Standard, he must have known it was an ancient, written sorcery. So he took the opportunity of Lionel’s absence to steal it, and do what he told us: indulge his obsession by answering his questions about death.
“I’m a necromancer,” said Leila, “I bring youpremium quality madness at discount prices!”
“It serves them right, too,” Mary continued. “I can guarantee you they were all planning to double cross each other.”
Everybody murmured their agreement.
“There’s one thing I want to know,” announced Leila. “If the ant-spider creatures really did work for Ruin, why didn’t they help him out when we got there?”
“They were there,” Mary said. “I saw them as brownish lights in the distance when I was in my trance. I think that the Standard affected sorcerous creatures more than the rest of us. I would think that’s the reason that Ruin was able to turn the Crusader into...into that guy.”
“I suppose,” Leila was skeptical. “But why were the creatures affected when Wyyla wasn’t?”
“Because they’re dumb,” said an acerbic Wyyla. “The sorcery from the Standard did seek out us creature types first, but it wasn’t too difficult to fight it off if you have any willpower in you. Even though it was getting tense there at the end.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” said Leila.
“No need to be sarcastic,” Wyyla pouted.
“It’s my natural reflex to ludicrous understatement,” Leila told her.
“I’m just glad this whole thing is over,” Grace stated.
Everyone groaned, including Leila.
“What?” Grace asked. “What is it?”
“Grace,” sighed Mme. Rumella, “nothing is over. The best we can say is ‘over for now’.”
“Even I saw that one coming,” Leila remarked.
“How is it not over?”
“Suerte is now mayor,” said Delilah, “plus he has operatives out of town somewhere. I think overheard him talking about Holden Trainer.”
“Oh hell,” said Mary.
“If that weren’t bad enough news, we don’t know where Damon McLenen may be, or when Ruin may return,” Mme. Rumella explained
“Return? He’s dead. You crushed his skull with a hammer. I don’t think he’s coming back any time soon,” Grace protested
“He’s a necromancer, Grace.”
“Was.”
“He may not be entirely human when he returns, but necromancers have a tragic habit of doing just that, time and time again.”
“That’s incredibly depressing,” Grace said. “You’ve just depressed an injured woman.”
“Oh hush,” Mme. Rumella replied.
Miguel Suerte, Mayor
Miguel Suerte smiled under his moustache. It appeared that things were finally going his way. Hundreds of years of planning had gone into this. The loss of both Ruin and the Standard of Uruk were distressing, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He was not without contingency plans, not to mention better associates than Ruin.
Though his security forces had proved inadequate, he felt relatively secure in their greater numbers, and the addition of nearly three thousand spell Motes flying around his house. They would provide a fair share of fiery doom to anyone who would come to St. Vrain manor with the intention of bringing the sa
me to him.
The only real wild element at the moment was Hunter Blue. Annalisa Da Cartagio’s symbol had appeared on his desk, covered in blood. He had killed four, maybe five hundred years ago. It was difficult to remember
What he did remember was a time a thousand years ago, before Annalisa had ever met Hunter Blue. When a drift of desert sand would appear, and form itself into the model building that had been on his desk, you would go. You would go if you wanted to live. Annalisa Da Cartagio was ruthless, powerful, and beautiful as hell. Suerte had often done work for her, at the usual steep discounts Annalisa seemed to encounter everywhere. Whatever change of heart she may have had in the years before her death, Miguel Suerte remembered her for what she truly was, and that was just like him. Except for the beautiful part, but then she didn’t have a swell moustache. Killing her was the crowning achievement of his life so far.
He would outdo himself as mayor, of course. And when Hunter Blue came for him, he would make sure he knew exactly who the love of his life had been. Then he would send Hunter to the afterlife so he and Annalisa could talk it over in person.
A Safe Return to the Unknown
It was several mercifully quiet days later when Mme. Rumella went to the Palatine Hill. Leila Lanstrom was there, leg fully functional once more. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and she was dressed in khakis and a man’s button-up shirt, with several of the top buttons unbuttoned. A fleece jacket lay discarded on a stack of nearby rubble
“Mme. Rumella, hi!” Leila called. “Can you believe the weather? I’d like to visit the real Italy sometime, you know, so I can see it more than one hill at a time.”
“The Aventine Hill isn’t far, I believe,” Mme. Rumella commented. “I brought coffee for you and your friends.
“Oh thanks. I was here all night,” she said perkily