by L. R. W. Lee
“Am I imagining things or do these unusually large hoof prints go with those paw prints?” I’m not sure what to think, because nothing makes sense.
A large goat cat… no, a fire-breathing goat cat did this. Right. I laugh to myself.
“Shit,” Harpoc exclaims half a minute later, throwing a hand to the back of his neck.
Aura exhales heavily the next second, standing erect.
“What?” Despite Harpoc’s shitty exclamation, all thoughts of dung of any sort evaporate as I stand.
Harpoc shakes his head. “It’s a chimera.”
He and Aura’s gazes lock, and I know she agrees.
A chimera? I know I’ve heard of it. My brain’s digging, full speed ahead to recall the specifics.
Harpoc beats me to it. “A chimera is a creature with the front end of a lion, the middle and back end of a goat and a serpent’s head for a tail.” He looks at the dark ground and starts pacing, hand still on the back of his neck.
The memory bursts from the recesses of my brain and my stomach twists. “The goat’s head that’s in the middle of its back, breathes fire.”
“It does,” Aura says.
My breathing hitches. I wish I didn’t remember, because if there’s a chimera loose, we’re in deep, deep doo-doo. It’s already burned two villages to the ground.
“Harpoc…,” My voice quivers. “… you sealed a secret for a chimera?”
What was he thinking? No, what was secret magic thinking? Clearly it wasn’t. What secret would a beast like that even have? I incinerated a bazillion beings, and I don’t want to face the music? Ha.
Harpoc says, “I did, once, way back when.” His laugh is bitter. “Funny, I sealed a secret for a Cerberus the other day.”
A Cerberus? My stomach clenches, I don’t want to know. “Why’s it funny?”
“Just that they’re both multiheaded.”
When it rains, it pours.
So there are two beasts that’ll kill us quick like, because why have just one mouth when you can have two or more to rip you to shreds? Or breathe fire in this case. My heart starts to sprint.
Gold eye, silver eye.
Aura surveys the forest at the end of the street, frowning.
Does she sense this monster? Is it nearby? My heart pounds faster.
My thoughts are scaring me shitless, pardon the pun, and I need to redirect or I’ll be a quivering mess. “So this is a creature that’s been brought back like the three we dealt with?”
Harpoc bobs his head.
My brain’s still digging up artifacts, and I recall a story where a chimera terrorized Lycia in southern Turkey.
Some young, snot-nosed brat, Bellerophon, got too full of himself and totally torked off King Iobates in his court at Lycia, to the point that the king decided to have him killed.
But rather than just outright executing him, the king decided Bellerophon would have to kill the chimera that, every night, swept down on the land and carried his people and animals away—the bones of its victims were strewn across the mountainsides. Needless to say, everyone lived in constant fear. Iobates was sure that, like others before him, the creature would kill Bellerophon, but it didn’t. He killed it.
Surely this creature can’t be the same one, not that I have a monopoly on the whereabouts of every chimera—heaven help us if there’s more than one—but if it’s the same, why would it be here terrorizing the Twilight Zone?
I remember Harpoc said the sphinx headed to the Temple of Amun in San El-Hagar, Egypt, because that’s where he sealed its secret. Is that true in this case, too?
“Where did you seal the chimera’s secret?”
Aura’s taken to wandering further down the dim street, and Harpoc motions me to walk beside him.
“I sealed its secret at Mete.”
“Your old capital?” I give him an incredulous glare. “Wasn’t that dangerous with all those people around?”
Harpoc sighs. “I lost several subjects in the process.”
Well, crap. “Why’d it come here and not there? How’d it even get here? It doesn’t have wings.”
“No idea, nor have I any idea how it got to your world after. I was duty bound only as far as sealing its secret.”
I really hope there’s only one of these beasts. Would secret magic have provided an all-expense-paid trip around the galaxies? I hate to contemplate it, but it wouldn’t surprise me.
It suddenly feels chillier, and I fist my hands in my hoodie’s pocket.
“Since its secret’s been compromised, can I ask what in the world you sealed for it?”
A corner of Harpoc’s mouth hitches up.
“Oh come on, what further harm can come?” I throw up my hands, my stomach clenching with another thought. “Or will secret magic try and strangle you again? If so, I retract the question.” I’m not setting off that booby trap again.
Harpoc’s eyes twinkle. “You are correct that no further harm can come. It’s just fun to play with you.” A laugh rumbles from his chest as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
I swat his arm and put on my best frowny face.
“As it happens, the chimera's secret was that it’s heart is full of poisoned blood.”
“Poisoned blood?” My tone rises. “Just its heart, nowhere else?” Like, hello, what happened to the circulatory system?
“If someone pierces its heart, the poisoned blood will leak into its body and it will die an excruciatingly, painful death.”
“It would serve it right.”
We’ve caught up with Aura at this end of town. She covers her mouth and shakes her head where she stands, holding herself. My stomach quivers, because scattered all across the smallish field, as well as in and among the trees of the dense forest beyond, are shredded corpses.
“You were right, Aura.” I sound like a mouse, as I clutch the backpack’s strap. Anything to steady me.
Some corpses have been dismembered, their bones stripped clean, others left with meat still on them. I want to barf, especially since nothing overwhelms the stench of death, not even char; there’s not even a hint of a breeze to help.
“I’d say this confirms our speculation,” Harpoc says. His voice is solemn.
Aura turns our direction. “Harp…, would you…?” She nods toward the devastation, then swipes at her cheek.
Is she crying? It seems so. She may lack social graces, but she grieves death.
I still can’t quite get my arms around a being like Aura, but that little gesture makes me warm to her more because it tells me that in addition to sensing, she also feels, and that’s something I can relate to.
With a thought, Harpoc sets what’s left of the bodies ablaze, but amazingly not a single tree catches fire. It must be how he specifies his secret magic, like burn only flesh, maybe? I’ll have to ask him later.
“Into the hands of the Ancient One, I commend you,” Aura adds, raising her weathered hands like an old crone.
I cover my nose with an elbow, but the stench of death still tickles my nostrils.
I’m glad Harpoc gives every one of these beings dignity in death. It doesn’t happen often; only big shots usually realize it from everything I’ve seen and dug up.
At length, I turn and ask Aura, “Can you sense the chimera?”
“Oh dear, I wish I could, but no. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Just thought I’d ask.”
She gives us a sad smile. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Thank you, Aura,” Harpoc says, and seconds later, she vanishes.
I turn around and look back down the village’s main street. “How fragile life is.”
“How quickly things can change,” Harpoc adds.
I snort. “Don’t I know it.”
No sooner are the words out than I catch movement from the dense woods out of the corner of my eye.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Right on schedule,” Harpoc says, scanning the dark field between us and the dense forest.
/> I turn furrowed brows on him, then follow his gaze. The dim, nearly black of the dark forest makes it hard to see, but I squint and make out at least… I count quickly… ten beings moving, dressed all in black. They must have come from the forest. And they’re headed our way.
“Who…?” My breathing hitches and I clutch the backpack’s strap.
Harpoc doesn’t reply, only puts his hands in his jacket pockets like nothing’s amiss and slowly turns, then starts wandering back the way we came.
“Harpoc.” I grab his arm, but all he does is look over at me and holds a finger to his lips before returning his hand to his pocket.
He makes that gesture when he’s thinking, but he’s not contemplating anything at this moment. He means for me to be silent, even though I’ve no idea why.
“Words travel up here.” That’s all he says, in a hush.
Words travel? I’ve no clue what he’s talking about, and panic floods my veins because we’re about to face who knows what out here, in the middle of nowhere, no friendlies for miles.
Harpoc’s plenty strong, but he’s being more secretive than usual. On top of that, he’s moseying, which is driving me insane.
Is he asking to get caught? I’m not up for that. Nope. Nope. Nope. There’s ten of them and two of us, and who knows what hocus pocus they can do.
Giddy up, pardner…. Move it move it move it.
Seems my inner minion’s scared stiff, too, because she doesn’t make a peep.
Pell, I’m not scared stiff. I’m waiting to see what Mister Sexy Pants does because he handled Zeki’s goons.
I blow out a long breath. He did.
Harpoc gives me a wink, and it feels like he’s been reading my thoughts.
I don’t care that he bested Zeki. Beings dressed all in black, slinking around in the dusk dark are never good news. How can Harpoc not know this?
I sneak a peek over a shoulder.
Crap! They’re gaining on us.
Gold eye, silver eye.
My breathing accelerates. They’re not only wearing black clothes, but hoods cover their heads, too.
I’ve played too much Assassin’s Creed, and my mind’s inventing all sorts of not-good-for-us scenarios.
“Do you trust me?” he whispers, continuing to saunter.
It’s hard to ignore panic that begs for release, but giving it freedom won’t help at all so I take a deep breath. “I do,” I whisper back, then force myself to say more. “I trust you, Harpoc.”
I can only hope hearing myself say it will cement my resolve.
He closes his eyes, seemingly savoring my words.
I glance behind us. The black-clad beings continue toward us, jogging now. Clearly, they’ve spotted us.
Despite what I just said, my feet beg to run, but I’m not about to leave Harpoc’s side. He’s strong and powerful and our best chance against these beings.
And I trust him to get us out of, whatever this is.
Our pursuers yell something I don’t understand, and Harpoc, hands still in his pockets, turns to face them.
We’re halfway down Drystrand’s main street, and the ten beings spread out across the road, a mere maybe ten feet away, clearly meaning to intimidate.
It’s working.
Closer up, and in this dim light, I can see only dark eyes under their hoods. They give me the heebie-jeebies.
A bulky guy, I’ll call him their leader, pulls back his hood and steps forward. His face is round, his brown hair, short, and his expression says he means business.
He starts rattling off a language I’ve no clue about so I pull my hands out of my hoodie and grab my ring.
The simple motion draws the attention of no less than four of the thugs, and I swear they all suck in a breath. Others of the bunch shift.
What the heck? Not these guys, too. I mean come on. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
I roll my eyes as I remove my ring and slip it into a pocket before they try and snatch it. Who knows what they might try at this point?
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” the leader says in whatever tongue. Thanks to secret magic, it doesn’t matter, because I understand.
Harpoc frowns but doesn’t comment.
The tall, scrawny underling beside Leader Dude pulls back his hood and his aqua eyes go wide.
Aqua. I’ve never seen aqua eyes.
He tugs at his leader’s arm, earning a look of disgust, but Leader Dude leans in. Scrawny Dude turns his back toward us and whispers in his ear.
Unfortunately, secret magic doesn’t improve my hearing so I don’t know what he says, but whatever it is, the leader stiffens and a second later, he stands tall and clears his throat, looking Harpoc over.
Surprise much? Yes, meet the Emperor of Secrets, ya idiot.
“Even more interesting,” Leader Dude says, then looking at me, asks, “What’s your name, girl?”
Girl? Girl? I’m a woman not some child, you big oaf.
I ready a snarky retort, but before I can deliver it, Harpoc, almost imperceptibly, shakes his head.
Spoil sport.
A corner of his mouth hitches. No doubt he knows what villainy lurks in my devious mind.
“Names matter not,” Harpoc counters, crossing his arms and leaning back.
The leader tugs on the fabric at the wrist of his gloves, like they’re loose. “We’ll have to agree to disagree. Now then, what were you doing in Glass?”
In Glass? We were in the Empire of Glass? Harpoc said the village was on the border, but really? Wait, are these guys Glass soldiers?
I nearly burst out laughing. Glass soldiers. Don’t throw stones in glass houses… or at Glass soldiers.
Harpoc doesn’t so much as flinch as he locks eyes with Leader Dude. “I could ask the same of you. Why did you ignore our border and invade Secrets not long ago?” His voice carries bite.
Harpoc’s the king of redirection. It feels good not to be the only one he does it to.
Ha! Take that, ya big lug.
Leader Dude chuckles, then sniffs dramatically, looking around at the charred buildings. “Looks like things got a bit out of control. What happened?”
Harpoc turns his palms up casually, and I almost believe he’s at ease, except the vein in his neck bulges. “We were hoping you could tell us.”
My sports commentator voice chimes in, And it’s another redirect.
Leader Dude shakes his head. From his pinched lips, it’s clear Harpoc’s frustrating him. “It was a bit hard to miss the bodies burning in our woods.”
“Yes, I suppose it would be.” Harpoc crosses his arms again.
“Care to explain?” Leader Dude keeps fishing.
Harpoc just shrugs.
The leader huffs loudly.
Scrawny Dude shifts.
I want to tell the guy, you’re only encouraging Harpoc, but I refrain.
“It seems we’re guilty of the same infraction, but unlike your soldiers, we’ve retreated back within our border.” Harpoc toes a triple thick line of bricks buried in the dirt road. I’d completely missed it, but it goes both directions, as far as I can see.
Leader Dude snarls.
Harpoc shoves his hands in his pockets. “We did not start this, but we will finish it.”
“Those are big words, God of Secrets.”
“And absolutely true.” Harpoc gives the guy a fierce look. “Now then, we’ll take our leave.”
“Stay out of Glass, Emperor,” Leader Dude snarls.
I feel eyes on me as Harpoc takes my forearm, and shadows swallow us a second later.
_______
The welcome aroma of fresh roasted coffee hits my nose a couple minutes later as I feel solid ground beneath my feet.
“Aura, summon Nuria and Idris,” Harpoc says to the air before his shadows have completely vanished. But Aura’s nowhere to be seen.
We’ve arrived back at the café just downstairs from Harpoc’s place, and my stomach grumbles as I take the backpack off and throw i
t in one of the rust-colored leather chairs in that same corner where I met the Core.
“Hungry?” Harpoc asks, taking his leather jacket off and tossing it in the chair beside mine.
I put a hand over my mouth, covering the rumble. “We didn’t exactly get to eat lunch.”
He heads toward the long counter in the middle of the space, reaching for his wallet in a back pocket as he does.
Nice butt.
I snort. I can’t control myself.
Nuria arrives in a swirl of shadows seconds later, redirecting my attention before I can appreciate Harpoc more.
“How’d…?”
She tightens the scrunchie holding back her long, white locks with both hands, exposing her trim midriff. “Being omnipresent has its advantages. Aura can easily pass on messages.”
“That’s cool.”
“News?” she asks, adjusting her burgundy, V-neck blouse. She always dresses chic, and tonight’s no different because it coordinates with the pair of blue, skinny jeans that flatter her every curve.
I peel off my hoodie, and as I do, I realize Harpoc’s hocus-pocused my sneakers because they’re clean and white again. Sneaky god. I’ll have to thank him properly later. “We visited the Twilight Zone and ran into some Glass soldiers.”
She gives me a long look.
“I got you a turkey croissant and a decaf coffee,” Harpoc says, holding out a tray.
I grab my sandwich and beverage and set them on the short table, then relocate my hoodie and Harpoc’s coat, oust the backpack to the floor, and take my seat.
Harpoc grabs whatever he got himself and offloads the tray to a nearby table, then sits down in the chair beside me.
Aura appears a minute later, like always, out of thin air. She’s again a “she,” I decide, because she’s shed her threadbare clothes and now sports an outfit identical to Nuria, down to a stylish pair of silver sandals. She’s even done her hair the same—long, straight, and white.
Nuria and I share a chuckle. I’m no fashion diva, but even I know no two ladies should wear the same outfit to the same party, but at least she’s decent.
We chat as we eat until Idris comes down the stairs several minutes later. He looks like Aura called him in the middle of something because his uniform is dirty and there’s mud smudged on one of his horns.