Knight Watch

by Tim Akers

  “This is a trap, right?” I asked. “It feels like a trap.”

  “Yeah,” Matthew whispered. “This is a trap.”

  “Luckily, I know how to spring it.” Bethany’s voice came from behind us. I turned just in time to see her appear amid the far shadows of the room, stepping through the tangled roots of the circle to stand behind Eric. She took his chin in her hand and twisted his head up, exposing his neck. The roots around his face tore free. Eric blinked slowly, his eyes sticky with sleep. Bethany put her blade to his throat. “What’s a trap without the cheese?”

  “Wait!” I shouted, and the thousands of spiders suddenly tensed. “You’re not going to kill him! That’s the guy we’re here to rescue!”

  “John?” Eric asked, his tongue thick. “Why are you still in costume? And what’s with this knife at my throat?”

  “Have a little faith, Rast,” Bethany said. “Let the hero do her job.”

  “Beth, you psychopath! You can’t just stab your way out of—”

  Ten million tiny legs shimmered down the walls at the sound of my voice. They flowed in an inky blanket over our feet and up our legs. The flicker of their passage was agony on my skin, but I hardly noticed in the midst of my rising horror. They reached my waist, my chest, crawling under my armor and between my fingers. Matthew was screaming with his mouth closed, and Tembo was waving his torch around like a madman. The surrounding books caught fire, and the smell of smoke and burning paper filled the room. Bethany stared at me with calculating eyes.

  “You boys are going to need a hand,” Bethany said. “Good luck with that.”

  She ran her blade down Eric’s chest, popping open the circles of vines that held him in place like a Christmas present. He started to tumble forward, but she pulled him to his feet and cut a hole in reality with the shimmering blade of her knife. Eric screamed as she shoved him through, then followed after. The blackened strap zippered closed.

  “Well don’t fucking leave us he—” but then I felt the dancing legs of thousands of spiders on my chin, and snapped my eyes and mouth shut. They swept over me in a wave of sheer terror. I screamed through clenched teeth.

  Then it stopped. The pain of spiders on my super epic sunburn, the smell of fire, the horror of crawling bodies working their way through my clothes. I held completely still. When nothing further happened, I took a deep breath through my nose and spoke, opening as little of my mouth as I could manage.

  “Tem?”

  “Hm.”

  “I think it’s over.”

  “Hm.”

  “They’re gone.”

  “Hm.”

  I peeled open one eye and looked around. We were in the mall again. A lady was watching us from her place on a bench. Sun filtered through dirty skylights, and the dusty branches of palm trees waved in the air conditioning. I let out an explosive breath.

  “They’re gone. We’re fine,” I said. Tembo and Matthew stood nearby, arms and legs held close to their bodies. “Guys, you can open your eyes. The spiders are gone.”

  Slowly they relaxed. Tembo shook it off faster than the saint, seemingly embarrassed at having overreacted. The lady stood up and marched off, pushing a baby stroller while she muttered to herself. Matthew waved at her, then turned to me.

  “What happened? I clammed up as soon as you shouted.”

  “I thought Bethany was going to kill him. But instead she cut him free and kind of...” I made a cutting motion with my hand. “Disappeared.”

  “Breaking his hold on the dream. Good. Quick thinking,” Tembo said. “Though it would have been quicker to kill him. I wonder why she didn’t.”

  “Because it was Eric, you idiot. Eric, my friend from the faire. Are you both psychopaths? I mean, I suspected the kid with the knives, but you seem so normal, Tem.”

  “We have to go. That lady’s going to call security,” Matthew said. “I know that look. Come on.”

  “Well, where did Bethany go?” I asked.

  “Over here,” Bethany hissed. She was tucked behind a planter, with Eric at her feet. I ran over to them. “I set an anchor here in case things went shit-ways. Which they did. So this is the guy we came to save?”

  “It is. And you almost did the other thing.”

  “No, no. Just because I put a knife to a guy’s throat, it doesn’t mean I’m going to kill him. Kidney’s cleaner. Damned carotid sprays everywhere.” She pushed Eric onto his side and stared into his eyes. “I think he’s going to be fine. Just a little out of it for a while.”

  Eric looked bad. Deep lines creased his face, and his mouth hung open. A thin trickle of blood leaked down his neck from where Bethany must have nicked him. He was still dressed in his bard’s costume from the renaissance faire. Tembo came to stand next to me.

  “How do we know it’s not another Fetch?” I asked.

  “We don’t. Not until we get him back to MA. Matthew, can you get anything on this guy?” Tembo asked. Matthew came over and knelt next to him. We were really drawing a crowd now.

  “Has a soul at least. Most Fetch’s feel like a pile of sticks bound together. Someone might have cut a little piece of his soul off to create the Fetch, but he’s probably mortal.”

  “Oh, he’s mortal enough.” I pulled Eric to his feet. His breath stank of vodka. “Yeah, this is our guy.”

  “Mommie, that man is red!” I looked up to see a child pointing at me. “Why is he so red? Is he a socialist?”

  “Time to stop freaking out the mundanes. Looks like we’re carrying him out,” I said. I hauled Eric up by his left arm, while Matthew took the right. I winced as his weight settled against my super-sunburn. We started for the doors.

  Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

  Unfortunately, our nightmarish toenail boat was right where we had left it. The parking lot was much busier now, as if the abandoned version of the mall was part of the anomaly all along. Esther was waiting by the keel of the longboat, glaring at the minivan parked one spot over. The door of the minivan was dangerously close to scraping the side of the boat. We got some odd looks; four cosplayers who looked like they had just been in a fight with...well, giant trees, carrying a drunk and portly bard between them. But no one seemed to care about the shaggy gray boat exuding a fume of sweaty feet and toe cheese.

  “Explain this to me, Tem,” I said as we passed a gaggle of teenage girls. They were taking pictures of us with their phones, and at least one was trying to get a selfie without looking like she was getting a selfie. “How do they see us, but not the Good Ship Hangnail?”

  “We are within their definitions of weird. They will find it strange that a group of friends came to the mall dressed like their D&D characters. They might even call the police. But they will still see us,” he said. “The Naglfar is outside of their ability to believe. No one expects to see a Viking longboat made of the nail clippings of dead warriors, especially in a parking lot.”

  “A reasonable expectation,” I said. “But annoying as hell.”

  “You get used to it,” Bethany answered. “Especially the phones. But it takes forever to wash the Instagram bullshit off. We’re going to be decompressing for a long time. Gods, I can’t wait to get back to my domain.”

  “We don’t have a long time, and none of you are going down the hole,” Esther said as we strolled up. “Gabby and Owen had to head back to MA. Word came through the anomaly actuator that we’ve got another situation. They’ve found the Fetch. It dropped into the real world somewhere south of here and is scrambling to return to the unreal. They’re moving now to cordon it off.”

  “Probably got expelled from the unreal when we collapsed this anomaly,” Tembo mused. “Which means they’re both definitely connected.”

  “And that makes it all the more important that we corner it, capture it, and find out who or what created it,” Esther answered. “Sooner we do that, the sooner we get Clarence back, and put an end to this whole bloody mess.”

  “Esther, we’re ta
pped out,” Bethany said. “We can’t handle a stiff zephyr right now, much less a doppelganger.”

  “Which is why I’m pulling in the other recruit,” Esther said. “She’s made good progress on her domain. The rest of you are going to have to make do with a quick recharge.”

  A collective groan escaped the lips of the rest of the team. I looked at Tem.

  “What’s that involve?” I asked.

  “Nothing good,” he said.

  “Hey, um...I think I’m going to throw up?” Eric, hanging between me and the saint, started tapping my shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, definitely throwing up soon.”

  I set him on his feet and stepped quickly away. Matthew directed him away from the ship and the minivan, staying at arm’s length as Eric started making retching sounds. Eventually a wet ball of squirming roots dropped from his mouth and plopped onto the asphalt.

  “That’s...disturbing,” Eric said. He spat, and slowly stood up. “I don’t remember eating a houseplant, though it could have...John?”

  “Hi, Eric. Remember? We rescued you from the bookstore, and the spiders. Do you remember any of that?”

  He looked slowly around the team, his eyes finally settling on the Naglfar. He followed the blood-trimmed gray beams all the way to the prow, then looked back at me.

  “John? I think I need to stop drinking.”

  “Always a good plan, buddy. But this is real. Or as real as anything else. Come on, I’ll try to explain on the way home.”

  “He’s not going home,” Esther said. “He’s coming with us. If he knows something about who kidnapped him, and sent that Fetch after you, we need to know it.”

  “Probably for the best,” I said. “His house is a big tree now, anyway.”

  “A tree? What about a tree? John?”

  “Just get in the boat, man.”

  Eric wobbled up the side of the boat, trying desperately to avoid touching any of the toenails on his way up. I was about to follow him up when I noticed the rest of the team had grown very quiet.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked “What’s going on?”

  “Itchy eyes,” Esther said. “Happens to me every time an anomaly is manifesting. It’s coming back.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “Nevermind what I said,” Tembo whispered. “Something’s coming. You know your job, Rast. You’re the warden. Get to warding.”

  “Right, right.” I swung the shield off my back and looked around. The rest of the team was standing in a loose mob, and I couldn’t see anything that looked even remotely like a threat. “Um. Where are they coming from?”

  A mound of cracked pavement shivered on the other side of the lot, kicking up dust as it grew larger and larger. The asphalt spiderwebbed, then split open like an egg. A vine flopped out and started to writhe against the ground. It reached toward the sky, climbing straight up, higher and higher until it was ten feet tall, then twenty, then it was towering over the parking lot.

  “So, we got a Jolly Green Giant situation going on here?” I asked. “I feel vastly underwhelmed to learn that’s a real thing. Dragons, harpies, djinn, Valkyries...” I waved my hand at Matthew. “Whatever the hell you are. But Jolly Green Giant? Feels weak.”

  “This is not of the Jotun,” Esther said. “Though it may be one of those late-sixties jam bands. They are notorious for their bean magic.”

  The vine grew darker, taking on the appearance of bark, and a thousand limbs corkscrewed out of its trunk. Clusters of golden leaves blossomed from the branches, each one holding the light of a dying star. Stairs unfolded from the trunk, spiraling down to the ground.

  “Oh, hey. It’s okay, guys. This is fine.” I rested my sword on my shoulder and hooked a thumb on the hilt of my dagger. “I know this show. That’s where Chesa went. You said you were pulling her in, right, Esther?”

  “She should not be able to manifest her domain so readily,” Esther said. “I was expecting her back at Mundane Actual. Not in a suburban parking lot.”

  “Yeah, well. Ches is pretty much good at whatever Ches decides to do. And there’s nothing Chesa wants to do more than be an elven princess,” I said.

  Sure enough, Chesa’s delicate form descended from the golden bough. She looked pretty much the same as when she had left, though perhaps a fraction more otherworldly, a touch more fae. She came down about halfway before stopping. I waved like a maniac.

  “Hey, Chesa! We found Eric! Check it out,” I shouted. When she didn’t respond, I jerked a thumb at the good ship hangnail. “We were just heading back to MA. How has your domain been?” I cleared my throat and strained my neck, trying to peek up into the canopy. “Captain No-Shirt somewhere around? Or is he, uh, oiling his pectorals somewhere?”

  “Get away from him,” Chesa commanded. She unslung her bow, drawing and nocking an arrow in one smooth motion. She leveled the flight at my heart. Even at forty yards, I had no doubt she could put it on target. Instinctively, I raised my shield and fell into a guard position. “John, you have some questions to answer.”

  “I think we both have some serious concerns right now, Ches. For example, why are you pointing that thing at me?” I edged closer to the cover of the boat. Chesa responded by drawing the bow fully to her cheek and shaking her head. “On second thought, that’s pretty much my only question.”

  “Mine too,” Esther said. “Stand down, Lazaro.”

  “He tried to kill me,” Chesa said. “Or something very much like him. I thought it strange that John would follow me into my domain, but when my rangers found him wandering the border marches, he told a very convincing story. But when they brought him to the Everthrone, he answered my trust with a knife. Iondel gave his life protecting me. You will answer for that death, Rast!”

  “Ches, it wasn’t me. In fact, the same thing happened in my domain, only it was Eric. It was a Fetch, Chesa. A doppelganger. Someone kidnapped Eric, stole his face, and sent it to kill me.”

  “And it sounds like the same Fetch came for you,” Tembo said. “I assure you, this is the real John Rast. Not the monster who betrayed you and killed your lover.”

  “Lover?” I asked. “Who said anything about lover?”

  “And how am I to know the truth of that?” Chesa asked, ignoring my very reasonable concern.

  “You’ll have to trust us,” Esther said. “That’s part of being a team.”

  “The worst part,” Bethany murmured from the lee of the boat. She was crouched against the ground, peering at Chesa with narrow eyes. “I could probably reach her before—”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Esther snapped. “Whoever sent that Fetch is still out there. And unless the world is made up of a series of unbelievable and unlikely coincidences, this new anomaly that Gabrielle and Owen are tracking has something to do with it. We need to recharge, regroup, and get moving.”

  Chesa held stock still for the longest thirty seconds of my life. Then she lowered her bow with a sniff.

  “Oh, thank God,” I said. “This is all getting to be a bit much.”

  “What of Eric,” Chesa asked. “If he’s been kidnapped, shouldn’t we be looking for him?”

  “Right here, Chesa,” Eric said. He was hiding behind the longboat’s shield wall. He waved at her meekly. “You’re looking...sharp.”

  Chesa didn’t respond. Instead, she danced down the remaining stairs and stepped lightly to the ground. When her foot left the final step, the tree folded up like a magician’s trick and disappeared back into the earth. Only a scattering of sun-bright leaves remained.

  “Glad we got that figured out,” Esther said with a sniff. She turned to the rest of the team and waved her hand in the air. “Saddle up, folks. Daylight is burning.”

  We got reluctantly into the boat. Chesa sniffed at the hand I offered, bounding up the ladder in a single jump. I scrambled after, settling on a plankboard seat next to Eric, with Chesa immediately in front of us, the rest of the team spread out. Esther took the wheel.

  Flying in
a boat made out of toenails is much more terrifying without the blindfold. At least blind I could pretend that I was inside something safe, or maybe on the ground. But as the tattered sails billowed upwards, and the prow lifted off the earth, there was no hiding what was going on. We were hundreds of feet up in a matter of seconds. Eric clung to the side of the boat, staring down at the ground with wide eyes. Only Chesa seemed nonplussed. After a bit, Eric tore himself from the scenery and turned his attention on me.

  “John, man, you look like hell. Actual hell. It’s like you’ve been using a blowtorch as a tanning lamp.” He smiled, but it was interrupted by a look of confusion on his face. He fished a leaf out of his mouth. “Man. What the hell happened to me?”

  “That’s what my friends are going to try to find out. What do you remember?”

  “Well, for starters, you killed that asshole accountant. Oh!” He looked nervously around the car. “You killed a guy! John! Did you...are you a criminal now?”

  “Certain of our actions are covered under the 1098 draft of the Danelaw, as well as the armistice of Krakow, the Atlantis Accords, and the peace agreement of 1939,” Tembo turned a piercing eye on Eric. “The lunar peace, that is. We still uphold our end of the deal, even if the Germans couldn’t be bothered.”

  “Sure, okay,” Eric said placidly. “But like, normal criminals. Here and now?”

  “Some laws do not apply,” Tembo said stiffly.

  “So much for not being crazy,” I muttered to myself.

  “I don’t know, man, this is pretty cool. I’m not sure how the boat is flying. Helium, maybe, and a well-hidden engine. Dude, your immersion standards are epic!” Eric said. “I mean, I assume this is part of some game, right? You’re all gamers?”

  “God,” Bethany moaned. “Spare us, sweet Laverna, from the wisdom of dice.”

  “Back to the subject at hand,” I said. “We were at the ren faire, I was fighting Kracek...”

  “Who?”

  “The accountant...lawyer guy. Hosier,” I said.