by JM Guillen
I jumped back, but Simon never saw the spear. It lanced through his already wounded leg and tore deep into his muscle.
Simon screamed.
“No!” I leapt toward him.
“You have seen what suffering I have at my beck and call, Ms. Shephard.” Smug satisfaction wove through those hateful words. “Do you require a reminder?”
I already supported Simon, who grunted in pain.
“Go. Just run.”
“Yeah, fucking fuck that.”
“Language,” he choked.
I let the Wind tear through me, behind me. Every scrap of my will focused on the door. I pumped my legs, pushing like a madwoman.
Just the door. Just get there.
“Pain is merely the first of these lessons,” the infernal horror promised. “Shall I show you again?”
Another of those spears jerked, moving suddenly. This time, however, I expected the play. Almost instantly, I had my hand up and the Seal of Oeriim burst into even brighter flame.
That spear struck my wall of wind, and fell aside.
Tired. I almost laughed. “Tired” didn’t even begin to cover it. Alicia had warned me about pushing things too hard, and I felt certain I’d crossed that line hours ago.
Cold and darkness.
The Gaunt Man swirled around us, all mist and shadow. I felt those eyes again, felt his talons caress me as he drifted by.
“Faster,” Simon urged.
Five steps. Almost.
I pushed faster.
“Do you know what I’d like, Ms. Shepherd?”
I felt his hands again, moving along my back, his breath on the back of my neck. I almost retched at the oily sensation of it, the filth of it.
The Wind picked up around me, helping carry me forward.
“I don’t care!” I pushed harder, as hard as I could. Simon couldn’t help, not after that spear reduced him to dead weight.
“Key,” my mentor rasped breathlessly. “I gotta get it out of the door.”
“I’ll tell you, Ms. Shepherd. I’ll tell you exactly what I desire.”
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed at the filthy darkness, as we bore down upon the door, full speed. Simon grabbed for the key, grasped it, and pulled it free.
“Liz!” Rehl stood on the other side of that doorway, and stared through. He stepped forward and heldg out a hand to me.
“Ms. Shepherd!!” the creature cried, those words a baleful perversion. “Would you kindly remove—”
“No! Oh, God, no!” Simon tried to grab at the edge of the door as he understood something I did not. I thought he only felt afraid he would fall, and in that moment, I didn’t care.
Let us both fall, just get inside! my mind yammered.
“—Mr. Girard from my premises?”
We fell inside and rolled in a heap onto Rehl. For a moment, I lay there, my mind processing what I’d heard.
Oh. A favor. He asked me a favor… and I… Oh fuck no! No, no, no…
I scrambled to my feet and stared back into the vulgar shadows of that place. There, in sharp silhouette, stood Mister Lorne, exactly as I’d seen him, the very first day we met.
“Thank you, Ms. Shepherd.” His voice oozed with the honey sweet drawl of the very deep south. “I thought you might see reason.”
“No.” I shook my head wildly, frantically, tears in my eyes. My wrists felt cold, so cold, and I stared down at them.
Shackles like rime, like gossamer ice, spread around my wrists like frost.
Then they faded from sight.
“Yes.” I heard the leprous smile on the Gaunt Man’s face. “Thank you, Ms. Shepherd. You performed admirably.”
“Elizabeth,” Simon struggled to his feet, using his cane. “What have we done?”
“I’ll see you soon, Ms. Shepherd.” The Gaunt man turned and walked into the darkness. “Quite soon indeed.”
The door slammed behind him and sent a burst of air through the attic.
“Liz?” Rehl glanced at me, not understanding.
I fell to my knees and screamed, half mad with fury and frustration.
Nothing.
In the end, it had all been for nothing.
Endgame
At the end, the world was draped in shadows.
I’d been dreaming, I felt certain, strange, gaunt things.
Yet I could not recall them.
Then, sounds, somewhere in the shadows.
I awoke in the canopy bed and blinked away haunted dreamings. I could hear someone else shuffling about, but to be honest I had no idea who it was.
“I assume that an ice giant stomped on my back,” I croaked, to whoever it was that I heard puttering around the attic. “As in, full on Norse giant.”
Friend, foe, it didn’t matter much. The way I felt, an average kitten could score a crit and knock me right out.
I rolled over and swung my legs to the floor. As I pushed myself up, I felt somewhat certain that someone had replaced my spine with a rubber garden hose.
I groaned, put my elbows to my knees, and hung my head in my hands. Then, and only then did I notice the bracelet on my wrist. Constructed of braided leather, it held several uniquely wrought beads.
One of those beads had been inscribed with the Aegis of Dudael.
I examined the bracelet for a moment, and then returned to my suffering.
“Every saving throw.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what happened, but I must’ve failed every single saving throw.”
“Abriel tells me she warned ya.” Simon stepped over to me and dragged over the rolling chair from the desk. He held a steaming cup of wonderfulness.
“If that is coffee, I’m ready to admit that you were officially right about everything.” I reached for it with both hands as he gave me the mug.
“I don’t need you to admit it,” he chuckled. “Although a signed affidavit might be nice.”
Oh.
Heaven.
I had never tasted anything as fantastically wonderful as that cup of coffee.
Simon sat across from me and let me get a few sips in before he spoke again. “Rufus called it lēthargia. He was all about the Latin.”
“Poetic soul.” I nodded. “What? What did he call that?”
“The exhaustion that came after he used his…” Simon’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Grace.”
“That word is so much better.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I don’t know why you didn’t just stick with that one from the beginning.”
“The arcane business is filled with people who want to tell you what words mean. Or people who want you to believe that certain things are hard and fast rules.” He shrugged. “I was just trying to give you the flexibility to learn things for yourself without getting all messed up in someone else’s rules.”
“Because of the angels?” I sat up straighter, though I made certain not to spill the deliciousness in my hand. “Because you didn’t want me to get ideas about heaven and all that kind of stuff?”
“Angels are real.” He spoke firmly, seriously. “In the exact same way a thousand other pieces of weirdness in this world are real.” He favored me with a smile. “Every bit as real as fairies, I ’spose.”
“Ah,” I gave him a slightly guilty smile. “It sounds as if you might have been informed about a few of my adventures.”
“I had more than three days to talk with your friends.” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Three days?” I shook my head. “That’s insane.” It also explained why I felt like I was starving to death. “But they’re all okay?” The idea that we had all made it out alive seemed extraordinarily lucky.
“No.” He shook his head. “None of you are okay. I’m a little worried that none of you will ever be okay again.” He paused. “But we’ll talk about that.”
“But they were okay enough to talk to you. No one is dead?”
“No one is dead.” Simon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “We all had a chat. Abriel and I had a nice long talk.
She’s never been one to hide anything from me.”
“Alicia.” I looked at him. “She told you everything?”
“Abriel did.” He sighed. “You and I got a lotta fat to chew. Alicia didn’t exactly take up that token in the method I intended.”
“You intended Alicia to take it up?” I felt confused.
“I intended to be present when you took it up.” He sighed. “There were some things that should have been done differently.” He gesticulated at his own left side, where I knew many of his tattoos lay beneath his flannel button up shirt.
“I see.” I frowned just a bit. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Simon growled. “This is my fault. I should’ve told your old man exactly what I intended. Instead, as I was not around, he made assumptions. He had no way to know.”
“But she’s not in any danger?”
“Not danger exactly.” He vacillated with one hand. “The lines between where ‘Alicia’ ends and ‘Abriel’ begins are pretty fuzzy.” He paused. “I need to look into it. There may be nothing to worry about at all.”
“But,” I winced, “they told you everything.”
“Oh, I ’spect that each one of them missed a thing or two. But I’ve spoken with all of them by now. I suppose I have the picture.”
“I see.” A flicker of worry ignited in my mind. Simon remained a man of secrets. What would it mean that I had given so many of them away to my friends?
“Anyway, after bouts of lēthargia, Rufus always gorged himself. One time I thought the man might eat an entire ham.” Simon grinned.
“I know the feeling.” I covered my stomach with my right hand. Now that I thought about it, I had been gorging myself, on pizza and Chinese food, after I awoke from my little naps.
“Aiden’s got all kinds of snacks hidden around here, some in the fridge, and some downstairs.” Simon stood and stretched. “Why don’t you grab yourself something so you don’t fall over dead, and I’ll call a cab. You’ll feel better after a hamburger or six.”
“That sounds perfect.” I smiled and pushed to my feet.
“We’ll talk more when you don’t look like you’re about to eat me.” Simon gave me a smile. “Figure some things out.”
He turned and stepped into the shadows.
“Figure some things out,” I whispered to myself. An iron dread settled in my stomach as I ran the fingers of my right hand over my left wrist. A whisper of cold, so faint that I doubted that anyone else would notice it, encircled my wrist.
Damnit.
I’d left my motorcycle in Lorne’s little shop of bullshit. I’d gotten my friends hurt, and I’d revealed Simon’s secrets.
I’d been caught anyway.
I definitely needed to figure some things out.
2
On the cab ride over, we didn’t do much more than engage in small talk. Simon complained about his leg and showed me the brace he wore, and we chatted a little bit about what happened after I passed out.
“Abriel knew exactly what to do.” He raised one eyebrow. “There’s a phone number downstairs for situations just like that.”
“That’s what she said. Something about,” I deepened my voice, trying to sound serious, “the Aftermath Protocols.”
“Heh.” Simon glanced up at the driver, who didn’t seem to take any note of our conversation at all. “There’s all kinds of contingencies set up,” he said vaguely. “Our organization is a bit larger than you might guess.”
I nodded understanding, my food starved mind awhirl. Was Simon saying that the Scions of Babel had doctors on the payroll? Professionals who showed up to ‘clean up after a job’? I imagined large men, ‘cleaners’ from old mafia movies. While the idea made me grin, I had to admit that, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover almost anything about the Scions of Babel.
It only took us a few minutes to arrive at Nan’s, the closest greasy spoon to Knucklebones. After Simon paid the driver, we walked inside and one of the servers greeted him.
“Hey there!” A woman in her early thirties smiled a bit playfully. “You want the table in the back?”
“Ah, Marie.” He smiled. “You know me so well.”
“Well,” Marie glanced at me. “It’s the only way to keep you safe from the assassins.”
“Oh God.” I closed my eyes and shook my head gently. “More poor suckers have bought into your shenanigans.”
“That’s what life is all about.” He held up one finger sagely. “The more people buy into my shenanigans, the better this life becomes.”
Marie took us to the rear of the room. We walked past red and white checkered booths and art that looked as if they hadn’t been updated since the 1950’s.
“Here we are.” Marie smiled and seated us in a booth that allowed Simon to keep his eyes on the door.
He smirked as he sat and gestured for me to sit across from him. This time, I was the fool who had to keep her back unguarded.
“I’ll have my typical.” Simon nodded at Marie. “As for the young lady, bring her two bacon cheeseburgers, some chili fries, and a strawberry shake.”
“Wow, honey.” Marie raised her eyebrow at me. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I confirmed. “Thank you.”
Marie got us some water and then left the table.
Simon and I sat so far back in the restaurant that no one else could remotely hear what we were saying.
“We’ll take it back to the store if you can’t eat it all.” He toyed with his mustache. “I get the feeling food doesn’t last long with that Baxter kid around.”
“You got it right in one.” I grinned. “I’m just happy he still has an appetite. I was pretty worried about it there for a while.”
“Baxter will recover.” Simon’s eyes looked grim. “Ol’ Doc Blackwood is one of the people contacted during aftermath protocols. We got him sewed up, got fluids in him.”
“When you said they were okay, I assumed they had all recovered.” I frowned.
“Baxter will be okay. He needs rest and fluids. He will probably have several really cool scars.”
“Well, chicks dig scars.” I winced.
“Rehl’s leg should’ve kept him from running around, at least as much as he did. Kid was on too many painkillers, that’s how he kept going.”
“But he’ll be okay?” I had no idea Rehl’s leg had been that bad.
“Yes—”
Marie returned, bringing Simon a plate of eggs, sausage, and hash browns. Moments later I sat in front of two of the largest and greasiest bacon cheeseburgers I had ever seen.
“Ambrosia.” The shake amazed me.
“No one came out of this little shindig in perfect shape, Buttercup.” He glanced at my right wrist as if to reinforce the thought. “But Doc Blackthorn has a real…” He grinned at me, “knack for making sure folk is taken care of.”
“I see,” I garbled as I chewed.
“Thing you gotta decide now is—” He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. “—what we’re gonna do about your friends.”
“What we’re going to do?” I set the milkshake down, an image of the ace of spades coming to mind.
I broke out in a cold sweat.
“Sure.” Simon shrugged. “You are now the legal proprietor of Knucklebones Incorporated. You took over your father’s position and shares. Aiden owned 90% of the company.”
“Okay…?” I took a sip of sweetened strawberry. What did that have to do with my friends?
“Well,” he drawled. “That place is just a cover, as you now know. Your ownership makes you the primary decision maker for the New York Lodge of the Scions of Babel.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and shoved a forkful of hash browns in his mouth.
“It… does?”
“Yep.” He grinned. “As long as your pop owned the store, I remained the local Rector. But Serin and I had the paperwork all drawn up. It’s always been intended that I pass that title to you, when you were ready.�
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“I’m definitely not ready.” I shook my head emphatically. “I don’t know if you remember how I almost got everyone killed the other day. It involved me stupidly striking a bargain with an eldritch abomination.”
“The situation isn’t ideal.” He nodded. “But this is where it’s all been going, Bluebird. The moment you signed that paperwork, you were technically the Rector of New York.”
“That makes no fucking sense.” I stared at him, my eyes wide. “Why would you think I would be ready for something like that?”
“You done spent six years training in Syracuse. You put down all manner of uncanny beastie and wandering ghost.” He shrugged. “When both your father and your mentor went missing, you figgered out almost everything you needed to know. You gathered allies. You travelled into the Twilight for knowledge. You took up arms, both mundane and arcane. You organized an assault against—” here he raised his voice just a touch, “an eldritch abomination.”
“That sounds a lot cooler than it seemed at the time.” I shook my head.
“Freckles, you’re everything I needed you to be.” The not-old man shook his head wistfully for a moment. “Things didn’t go perfectly, but things never do. In the last week you’ve faced more other-worldly beasties than some people do in their entire lives.”
“What does the ‘Rector’ do?” I skewed up my nose. “Rectoress?”
“Naw. A Rectoress is the wife of a Rector.” He gestured at me with apiece of bacon. “As Rector, you are responsible for the daily doings within the New York Lodge of the Scions of Babel. Your jurisdiction is the City of New York in specific, the state in general, and the East Coast in tandem.”
“Tandem?” I quickly felt myself getting lost.
“There are other Rectors of course—a couple close by. One in Boston, one in Maine. If you went charging into their jurisdictions, might be nice to let them know.”
“In tandem.” My head whirled. “Got it.”
I did not, in any way, ‘have it.’
“Mostly, it’s exactly what you did in Syracuse. Abriel and the library upstairs contain a vast amount of information regarding weird happenings in the city. You do your best to make certain that things don’t get too uncanny, and while you’re doing it, you run the store.”