...WHO IS FAT AGNUS?
“Agnus is technically my boss. He’s a titan. They call him the Lord of Vice for good reasons. Azure is as pure as a schoolgirl by comparison.”
IF ANYONE UNWORTHY TRIES TO WIELD THE POWERS OF THE MOST HOLY AND OMNIPOTENT ARBALEST OF GENE AMDAHL, I WILL STRIKE THEM DOWN.
“You’ll try, anyways. But what is that going to gain you? If you’re too much of a hassle, I’ll just abandon you in the Chippewas until someone manages to dominate you again.”
I... SOMEONE IS COMING. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Haxabalatnar had decided to check up on us. “You’ve been out here a while, Charlotte. Is the Arbalest still giving you trouble?” he asked, rather mildly, like I talked to magical artifacts all the time.
WHO IS THIS?
“Seems to be the case. I thought I’d put in a good word for Azure’s motivations and growing combat prowess, in case that helps.”
I REMEMBER NOW. YOUR COMPANION WAS TOO BUSY GAMBLING WITH THE TITAN TO MONITOR YOUR INITIAL EFFORTS.
“I’m not a magician. I didn’t want to get involved.”
WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU, WHOSE EYES ARE CLOSED AND WHOSE EARS ARE SHUT TO THE MYSTERIES OF THE ARCANE?
Haxabalatnar twiddled his thumbs together in something resembling exasperation. “Well, I fought alongside Azure during our assault on Mount Amdahl,” he said. “She racked up quite the body count through her magic prowess. I probably would’ve been picked off by the sneakier cultists if she hadn’t sensed their thoughts and kept me updated.”
HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU GOING TO BRING HERE IN A VAIN ATTEMPT TO BREAK MY WILL, CHARLOTTE?
“That wasn’t the plan before,” I said, “but it is now. I’m taking you back to camp to sell you to the highest bidder. You’re too much of a hassle if you don’t let Azure at least try wielding you.”
If this were a cartoon, Haxabalatnar’s jaw would’ve bloodily detached itself from his skull and went on a grim misadventure. Hopefully, he’d pick up on what I was trying to do.
“Are you nuts? If the Arbalest goes public, it’s going to end up in Sigmar’s mitts!” he shouted.
Hax’s jaw miraculously stayed attached. In addition, he’d made a point that I hoped would convince the Arbalest to drop its objections.
YOU WOULDN’T DARE. YOUR PLAN BENEFITS NO ONE OTHER THAN YOUR ENEMIES.
No such luck. Time to hone my brinkmanship.
“Word is some spooks from the US government have made their way to Mount Amdahl by now. I’m sure they’ll do everything they can to win the auction. They’ll dismantle you and use your secrets to make new toys for the American army. Sigmar won’t stand a chance, and neither will you!” I’m pretty sure I made up the last bit, but I did have the sneaking suspicion that the more coherent and powerful Earth governments were keeping tabs on, if not necessarily me, at least Sigmar.
I COULD KILL YOU ALL FROM WHERE I STAND. DON’T MAKE ME RESORT TO DRASTIC MEASURES.
“Whatever happened to your morality? I can’t even try to kill Sigmar if I’ve been turned to paste, can I?”
Suddenly, things hit absolute zero between me and the Arbalest. We’d reached the breaking point. It could listen to me, call my bluff by murdering me, or risk an unknowable fate at the hands of the mining syndicate. A long time seemed to pass before things warmed up.
I HAVE RECONSIDERED MY EARLIER DECISION. I WOULD RATHER TAKE MY CHANCES WITH THE TITAN THAN RISK YOU DOING SOMETHING ERRATIC.
Haxabalatnar fainted.
“Took you long enough to come around,” I smirked. “I’m going to make sure Hax hasn’t hurt himself, and then I’ll bring over Azure, okay?”
HAXABALATNAR WILL RECOVER NOW THAT YOU AREN’T ESCALATING THE SITUATION.
As the Arbalest predicted, Haxabalatnar came to after few seconds. I beckoned for him to follow me, and we began walking back to base camp once he got up.
“How did you manage that, Charlotte?” he asked. “I was certain you were going to get us all killed with your bravado.”
“Frankly, Hax, I have absolutely no idea.” I really didn’t. Why was I so hell-bent on Azure trying her hands at the Arbalest? It had to be because she was the only natural magician we had on our side...assuming Agnus didn’t keep the Necronomicon chained up in his palace. Either way, Agnus wasn’t here, and Azure was right in front of me before I knew it.
“Do I get to try the Arbalest?” she squealed. I nodded, and that was enough to make her squeal even louder. I glared at her until she stopped, but she was unable or unwilling to restrain the occasional giggling fit as we returned to the Arbalest. Hax stayed behind; clearly, he didn’t share my tolerance for overexcited titan girls.
The Arbalest looked duller now, almost as if its resignation to my will had broken its spirit. It seemed to me that it shuddered when Azure picked it up. That wasn’t an encouraging sign, but preferable to our annihilation. Azure promptly proved my hypothesis had merit by blasting the skies above with a torrent of lightning, smoothly reducing her output to a few stray sparks, escalating back to full intensity, and then sinewaving back and forth with almost mechanical precision.
I AM NOT A TOY. STOP DOING THAT.
Azure gasped and dropped the Arbalest. When it failed to smite her, she picked it up again and petted it like an unruly kitten. I highly doubt she would’ve been this theatrical if I weren’t watching. After a moment, she went back to casting various magicks from the Arbalest. I waited for her to switch from destructive blasts to something more benign; when she summoned a swarm of butterflies, I figured it was safe to approach and shuffled over.
“You’re doing a lot better with the Arbalest than I was-”
Suddenly, I was completely encased in swarming, twitching, crystal clear, jewel-hued butterflies. I almost screamed, but the swarm lost interest and took to the skies before I could make much sense of what had happened.
“Maybe never do that again,” I said. Azure was giggling like a madwoman.
“Good, more butterflies for me. You’ll be begging me to reconsider when you see how much fun I can have with this thing!”
In all honesty, she was probably right about the butterflies. I remembered that Azure had been complaining of feeling underpowered for some time, and that I’d been similarly erratic (if maybe not quite so ecstatic) when I first came upon the Arbalest. Whatever spirit or daemon inhabited the Arbalest had a point – it was only of value in the hands of a worthy owner. Azure was magically empowered, loyal, and whatever products she used in her hair made it look really shiny and alluring. What else do I need?
“Alright, I’ve had my fun. You can have the Arbalest back,” Azure said, jolting me out of my latest train of thought. She tried to pass the Arbalest back to me, but I gestured for her to stop.
“Azure, I think you should keep the Arbalest. It’d be wasted in my hands,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure? We went all this way to get the Arbalest for you, not me.”
“Arbalest doesn’t seem to care for my spellscripting magic. You surpassed my best efforts without even trying!”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
I had to think about it for a moment. “Absolutely. Take it!”
“I’ll give it back when we’ve killed Sigmar,” said Azure, retracting the Arbalest. I appreciated Azure’s sentiment, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to crack the scripting problem even after that glorious day.
“Neat. I...uh...grant you permission to use the most holy and omnipotent Arbalest of Gene Amdahl as you see fit.”
I EXPECT THE COMING WEEKS WILL BE ASTONISHINGLY UNPLEASANT.
“Can we do something about the complaints, though?” Azure asked once the Arbalest was done channeling its latest thoughts into us. “They’re cramping my style.”
“Short of destroying the Arbalest? I doubt it. I don’t think it full
y trusts you yet, so you’ll need to be extra respectful of its desires.”
LIKE YOU RESPECTED THEM WHEN YOU BLACKMAILED ME WITH THE THREAT OF BECOMING AN OVERSIZED BACKSCRATCHER FOR BUBBA THE COLTAN MINER?
“I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, okay? We’re in this together.”
It was going to be a long trip down Mount Amdahl if this kept up.
CHAPTER SIX
“Those who invoke history will certainly be heard by history. And they will have to accept its verdict.” - Dag Hammarskjöld
Azure was now augmented, and we were on our way to infiltrate Sigmar’s lands. Things were working out for us. While we’d been waiting for the miners’ drill to bore into Mount Amdahl, some of Ulysses’s hired help had scoured the other mountains for portals back to Earth. During our assault on the Amdahl cult, they’d finally found one and shoved one of their workers in for shits and giggles. Luckily, they’d come back unscathed and bearing convenience store coffee.
The survey team promptly recorded the coordinates and mapped out a route for us. It was an easy route – no more than 5 miles accounting for the twists and turns of the mountains. The portal would place us in a thicket of woods just outside the city limits of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. After we were done with it, there was a good chance some enterprising businessman would try to build a road through the portal. If that worked, it wouldn’t be long before Chippewa Falls became the first American town to cross dimensions. The legal framework required to make this sort of municipal expansion work was going to be its own special type of hell.
Our plan for transiting to the Forest of Glass was simple. We just had to walk through this portal (putting us in Wisconsin), make our way to a private computer, and then use that to open a portal back into hell. The less time we spent walking from place to place, the less time Sigmar would have to discover us and act accordingly. Unfortunately, there was no way to get around the first walk, but my body had long since acclimated to moderate and steady levels of exercise. The expedition had also buffed up my muscles and given me an awkward pacing habit! As much as waiting for my fellow humans to more comprehensively colonize the Chippewas might make part of the trip easier, I wasn’t willing to take things quite that slowly, so I got Azure and Haxabalatnar to quickly pack up and prepare for more walking.
PITIFUL MEAT SPIRES. ALWAYS RELYING ON MANUAL LOCOMOTION TO TRAVERSE GREAT DISTANCES.
“Are you going to question everything we do?” I snapped at the Arbalest when its thoughts burst unwarranted into our minds. “I don’t see you moving under your own power.”
LOCALITY IS A UNIVERSE UNTO ITSELF, CHILD OF AUGUST.
“Now you’re just trying to hide the fact you don’t have anything helpful to say.”
I AM UTTERLY DEPENDENT ON YOUR CONTINUED PATRONAGE.
“Maybe refrain from insulting us then?”
The Arbalest promptly stopped insulting us...but for how long? At this point, I was glad to get even a moment’s silence out of it.
“You’re going in my backpack, boyo,” Azure told the Arbalest. Luckily, we didn’t have to deal with telepathic snark, but I swear that I saw a single pearlescent tear fall off its frame before she packed it.
“Before you ask, Charlotte, I can still connect well enough with the Arbalest’s energy, even if it isn’t in my hands,” she explained to me. Her hypothesis needed testing.
“Hax, everything that could threaten us on the way to Wisconsin is lying in a pool of its own blood in the depths of Mount Amdahl,” continued Azure, preempting yet another worry. Then she realized what she was saying and clapped her hands to her mouth.
“I guess my telepathic skills got an upgrade. Forget firestorms; that is useful!”
She had a point, but elemental magic is flashier. It also went to show how much better a fit the Arbalest was for Azure than it was for me. Once we’d gotten that little demonstration out of the way, it was time to head out. Five miles on foot wasn’t going to take us more than two or three hours, unless the terrain turned out to be far rougher than initially expected.
It didn’t.
One hundred and five minutes later, we came upon the portal. My excursions into and out of hell had so far been through fragile, temporary dimensional portals; I’d gradually learned to overcome my fear that they would collapse while I was using them, scattering my body parts across realities. A few shreds of terrestrial grass appeared to be growing under our side of the portal – clearly even Earth’s plants were trying to get in on hell’s action. If they succeeded, hell’s citizens would end up with the mother of all invasive species problems.
this is earth? what a disappointment.
Apparently, canvas muffled telepathy. Whatever.
“Just wait until we reach a big city. Those are full of humans you can talk to,” Azure said, apparently to the Arbalest.
“Shall we step through?” Haxabalatnar asked. We nodded at him, and without further discussion, he walked over the threshold of the portal and onto Earth soil. After a few steps, he took a deep breath.
“Hey, they’ve got the same nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere as us!” he shouted. Not super impressed with that joke, Azure and I walked through the portal without further comment. After all, we were used to breathing nitrogen-oxygen mixtures. Still, as the exotic landscapes of hell gave way to what looked like an ornamental garden, I was glad to be back, even if only briefly, and even if it was merely Wisconsin.
“Charlotte, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think the locals know about the portal,” Azure said to me, pointing towards a pair of people jogging towards us. She didn’t seem too worried about it, though. I was hoping her telepathic instincts were correct and that the newcomers meant us no harm. They turned out to be elderly women dressed in hideous old people sweatsuits. My initial impression was that they dressed that way for comfort and not as some sort of psychological attack, but you can never be certain with old people.
“Okay, Florence, you owe me a bottle of cola. There’s three visitors, not four!” said the slightly taller, curly haired one to her shorter, thinner companion.
“Don’t tell anyone you came through here,” Florence said to us. “If the federal government learns about this portal, they’re going to put up a border checkpoint, and that’ll be bad for our business.”
“You’re scaring our guests! We should offer them a nice pot of tea.”
“Have you got any orange pekoe?” Haxabalatnar suddenly interjected.
“Sorry. All we have is green tea,” responded the first woman, who looked like she thought this was an unforgivable sin.
“Darn.”
Our hostesses rallied enough to give us the tea and some light refreshments; they must’ve picked up the tradition from the chthons. They also took the time to introduce themselves. Florence and Matilda Blomgren were sisters who had, by apparent coincidence, both been stereotypical housewives with doting husbands and above-average children ripped straight from Lake Wobegon. Then, Florence’s husband died of a heart attack and Matilda had lost hers to a freak skydiving accident. With their kids grown up to raise stereotypical families of their own, they’d decided to move back in together, start a small bed and breakfast, and live out the rest of their days in peace. Apparently, the bed and breakfast wouldn’t have gotten off the ground if they hadn’t set up so close to the Chippewa portal.
“What brings you here, anyways?” Matilda asked me, while offering us a plate of crumpets and strawberry jam.
“Just passing through. We’re off to kill a titan,” I responded. Azure raised an eyebrow, but I figured anyone Earthside who was aware of the portal system would be used to the lurid tales of horror and bloodshed that had to be seeping out of hell by now.
“Ooh, sounds dangerous. You be sure to get plenty of rest before you do that,” Florence interjected.
“We need to be going pretty quickly,” I told them. Ever since I ste
pped back to Earth, I’d had this vague sense of growing unease I couldn’t quite account for, and it felt like the only way to resolve this was to deal with Sigmar as soon as possible.
“At least take some hotdish with you! It’s a bargain.” Typical Midwest.
“Should I ask?” Haxabalatnar couldn’t help but ask. It became clear that Florence, Matilda, and I had to address this deficiency in Haxabalatnar’s cultural education at all costs. So we purchased today’s hotdish – a fairly standard concoction based on ground beef, mixed vegetables, cream of mushroom soup, and tater tots. As hotdish goes, it was serviceable. I’m not an expert, to be honest; my parents usually cooked Greek-style food, so I had to wait for the inevitable church potlucks to get my hands on the local cuisine. Haxabalatnar dutifully finished his portion, but his scowl of displeasure made it increasingly clear that he had some philosophical objections to hotdish. He didn’t say anything about it until we had paid our tab and departed the portal garden.
“Charlotte, how did you even survive out here? That was not food,” he snarled once he thought Florence and Matilda were out of earshot.
“I’ll admit I’ve had better, but that’s quite a claim to make,” I responded.
“I’m serious. The entire thing was processed junk. If I keep eating things like that, I’ll bloat up and die.”
“You know, most Americans are overweight to some degree or another,” Azure interjected. Haxabalatnar just scowled at us and looked at his belly, as if he expected the contents of his pants to suddenly overflow.
“Let’s just keep going, okay? Hopefully we can stick to healthier food from here on out.” As much as I would’ve liked to debate Hax on the finer points of Earth cuisine, we still had a mission. We made our way into the urban (?) core of Chippewa Falls.
After our visit with the Blomgrens, we spent a few hours looking for computers capable of sustaining a safe and sane portal. It was a lot of walking and shrugging, and I was soon hungry again. A pair of golden arches caught my eye, and I realized I hadn’t had a fast food meal that wasn’t from Arby’s since I left Agnus’s court to go questing in the first place. If I see a roast beef sandwich any time soon, I am going to scream.
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