Melee, Magic & Puke

by S.R. Cassady

  It has just enough mystery to get him to pause. “No. Not really.”

  “It’s really cool. I should tell you.”

  “No, it’s really okay. I’m just going to assume it’s dangerous and anything you add is simply a lie.”

  “Well then, if you’re not interested in the vial, humor me for a moment about architecture. When did you move the trick step from the fifth to the sixth from the top? I would have had you if it wasn’t for that trick stair.”

  “It’s always been the sixth.”

  “No, it’s the fifth.”

  “Pinty, I installed the defenses myself. It’s always been the sixth step that comes out with any pressure.”

  “Not the fifth?”

  “Nope. Always the sixth.”

  “Huh. Could have sworn it was the fifth.”

  “It’s not.”

  “And Tavos. “

  “Yes?”

  “To answer your question, yes, I have been decked for being a smartass. It left a permanent imprint of hewed stone on the side of my face.”

  I get a smile from him for that one. “So what now? I’d rather not kill you.”

  “What do you call what you just did?”

  “Uhhh, likely an attempt to kill you.”

  “I see a disconnect between your actions and your words there.”

  “Yeah, I guess there is. But you haven’t really called for a truce, so I should continue trying to kill you, even if my heart isn’t in it.”

  “You should always be true to your heart, Tavos.”

  “No, Pinty. That’s exactly why you’re here. You’re being true to your heart and she’s using you for it.”

  “And you?”

  “I just want to use you to get to her. Nothing about love. Just pure revenge and personal security. She’s blood, Pinty, but she’s gone bad. Not good for my health anymore. Or anyone’s.”

  There’s a moment of silence between us. Really, there are way too many of these moments, but neither of us is willing to commit to engaging the other. Tavos is clearly the faster of us, while I’m battle-hardened from the years of adventuring. All round, we’re pretty much tied in combat.

  Even odds, when failure means death, is not a good risk to initiate. I still like breathing. “So where do we go with this?” I ask.

  “You go kill Amber and we all live happily ever after.”

  “I can live with that, but you’re going to have to bribe me with the second floor, promising me treasures untold in exchange for sparing your life while taking hers.”

  “No. That is mine.”

  “You’re making this a hard decision when you could make it easier. Offer me half.”

  “Pinty, she’s going to gut you the moment you turn your back. What use then is the contents of the second floor?”

  “Fine then.”

  “Fine.”

  Tavos boots it up the stairs at the exact moment I leap forward. I follow. Taking the stairs two at a time, I leap over the missing sixth step in pursuit. The fifth step from the top gives way just like the sixth, and I go straight down, letting go of the vial in order to break my fall and stop my teeth from cracking on the steps.

  I’m too stubborn to let go of the blade in the other hand and my fingers ignite in pain as they sandwich between the floor and the knife’s hilt.

  Above, I can hear Tavos hit the trapdoor to the roof and climb through. I will not let him escape this time.

  I scramble up, remount this flight of stairs and then pounce up the second flight. I hit the top floor running, leap from the dresser to the trapdoor in the ceiling and burst through.

  Tavos is already kicking out as I come through the trapdoor and make the roof. His foot catches me square-on in the chest. It feels like the force of a thousand oxen jumping in unison. Time slows down as I lift off the roof, into the air and over the edge.

  Tavos smiles. “It always been the fifth. I only recently added the sixth.”

  As I cross over the edge of the roof, I finally release the knife. As it leaves my hand, it spins a beautiful spiral, arcing through the space between us. Right on target, it hits home, embedding itself in his gut.

  Time continues to move slowly as I tumble away. Falling now, all I see is the ground looming.

  Oh no. Not again.

  Chapter 44

  It’s nice that the world slows down when you die, that the God of Slow Motion Death pays attention to your life just long enough to give everyone a small moment of reflection before dying.

  And, as I have the time to reflect, this must be where I die. Here, impacting against the alley’s cobblestones in a giant splat.

  Hah! It’s true. My life begins to flash before me.

  A deep sense of contentment fills my soul.

  There’s nothing else to do now.

  I close my eyes and enjoy the show.

  Chapter 45

  This could be made better with popcorn.

  Hey!

  There’s me swaddled in gorgeous blue swaddling, staring and cooing into Mom’s face. She’s spectacularly beautiful, with flaxen hair covering her shoulders and green eyes that are forever filled with merriment and love. Her hand comes forward and strokes my cheeks! I love this! More, more! Who is that coming into focus behind her — Dad — Dad, is that you?

  Now I’m traveling by family wagon, one of many wagons within a traditional shortkin caravan. Traveling on this journey with us, it seems I’ve got about thirty-two uncles, all intricately involved in my life. No matter where I go, it’s impossible as a seven-year-old to escape their watchful eyes. Today I’m supposed to learn the basic fundamentals of weapon handling from Procom, my Uncle Superior. I meet up with Procom this afternoon after we camp. It’s the first time I see him in his full battle regalia, armed to the teeth and dressed in a complete set of combat leathers. The training session hurts. It is exhausting and only the first in many. But I love it. It was on this day I realized that the blade and I were meant to be one.

  Claire, my first love, has me by the hand, dragging me along the wooded path. We’ve been seeing each other for months now and, while I’m willing to believe in free will, I think Mom had some hand in setting the two of us together. The branches snap against my thighs, arms and face as Claire pulls me faster and faster along the path, laughing. We break into a small clearing a good distance, and well hidden, from the caravan. Leaping over a small stream, Claire turns and says, “I’ve been waiting a while to get you all to myself, Pinty.” She smiles and clamps both hands on my head to draw me in and kiss. Shortly, we are naked with only the wildlife to look upon us.

  My first elf kill. Messy, unprofessional and yet successful. If Procom was there, at that moment he would have said: “All that matters is you remain standing and your opponent is fallen. For that, you are rewarded with longer-lasting life.” I withdraw the knife from the elf’s chest, pulling it loose from the mail and bindings he hoped would protect him. I know thirty-two counters to an armored opponent. Thirty-two ways to puncture chain, slip through scale or find the bindings between plates. I look towards my left arm and watch the blood weep from my own wound. This is the first of my scars.

  The Bottom Up. It’s a crappy, worn-down pub and flophouse. It has a drunken proprietor and a set of lazy, unkempt wait staff. It serves patrons that expect nothing more than cheap ale and the right to pass out on the floor of the bar. I love this place and rent a room by the month. I promise myself that someday it will be mine.

  Amber, buxom Amber, I thought you just another in a series of women. But here you are, the apple of my eye. You, like no other, have bewitched my heart, stolen my soul and laid claim to my life. Tonight I have the courage to ask your father for both your hand in marriage and the position of heir apparent within the guild. With you by my side, he cannot reject the love we will present to him.

  Whew! That’s awesome. All good memories! Not a bad one amongst them.

  Seriously though, that’s a lot of memories and a lot of time that h
as passed. It’s not that far down from the roof, even in slow-mo time.

  I really should be dead now.

  I open my eyes.

  Chapter 46

  I see the broken cobblestones of the alley, along with a recently dropped turd, up close and no more than six inches in front of my face. A quick glance side-to-side shows that I’m hovering in mid-air, suspended by nothing. The alley, otherwise, is exactly the same as it was a few minutes before.

  I wiggle my fingers. Nothing. I wiggle my toes. Nothing. I’m still floating, slightly rotating.

  I try moving something more important than fingers or toes. Nothing. Stuck.

  This is not what I expected. True, it is much better than splatting after a three-story fall and I totally appreciate this, but it’s still not what I expected.

  “Hello? Anyone there? Mind coming and taking a look?” The words echo hollowly against the walls of the alley. “The great and terrible Pinty is aloft and frozen in place. Rob him now while he’s helpless! More than enough to go around for all!”

  Nothing. Just floating in air, rotating. Time for a different approach.

  “Damn it, whoever is doing this, I’ve got important things to do. I demand that you let me go this minute!”

  And, without debate or comment, the hovering disappears. I complete the next six inches of the fall, right into the turd.

  Chapter 47

  “I don’t care if you’re the God of All Gods, the Punisher of Overworked Cooks and the High King of the World, all rolled into one. You are turning around this moment and heading right back out that front door.”

  “Mavis, this is my bar. I’m grumpy. Get out of my way.”

  “No.” And with that she crosses her arms, sets her feet wide and gives me the look of death. I can hear the sounds of chairs being pushed back, patrons ready to bolt. “No one soils the Bottom Up covered in their own puke and smeared in crap.”

  “It’s not my own puke.”

  “Really, you let someone puke on you? And after that you thought that rolling around in poo would make it better? Get out of the Bottom Up the way you came.” Then, in a side voice only the closest patrons could hear, “Go around back. I’ll send one or two of the girls to get you cleaned and scrubbed out there. But not inside. You can embarrass yourself, but you won’t take the Bottom Up with you.”

  “Seriously, it’s not . . .” But I stop under Mavis’ stare, relent, turn around and trudge back out through the front doors of my — my! — bar, heading round to the alley behind.

  It’s my bar. I should be able to walk in covered in puke and poo and naked at the same time if I want.

  Rounding the back of the Bottom Up, Helena is already there with a bowl of water, blocks of ash and lye, and a pile of rags. “I got orders it all comes off. If you resist, I’m to scream and wait for the cat to disembowel you.”

  “Gloom loves me. I call your bluff.”

  “While covered in fish puke?”

  I strip down. There really is no use in arguing at this point. Get clean, get new clothes, get my wounds treated and bandaged.

  At one point, Helena heads back in for a fresh bowl of water. “While you’re in there, ask Muel to have Janis up and in the back room. I’ve got questions I need answered.”

  Chapter 48

  “I appreciate what you have done for me. It’s more than anyone else would have. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you is what one normally starts with.”

  A small chuckle is followed by an almost inaudible, “Thank you, Pinty.”

  I pull a stool over to the bed, hop up and look Janis over. In the few days he’s been here, he’s healed reasonably well. Without one of the mystic healers I employ, which I’m not feeling guilty enough to hire for him, he’s still got weeks left for the knee and gut to finish mending. “No problem, though we should discuss how you plan to repay me.”

  The chuckling immediately stops. “I, uhh, don’t have much in the way of coin. You know that. Never did. If you didn’t realize, well . . .” Janis tries to start from the bed, “I don’t want to take something that isn’t offered.”

  This isn’t going to be nice. I put my hand on the bandaged knee, grab the bindings and twist, first with a quick jerk and then continually, ever-so-slightly tightening.

  Immediately Janis goes into convulsions from the pain. “Ahhh, Pinty, I’m sorry! I should have told you sooner! I don’t have any coin! But I swear, I swear, I swear, I’ll make it up. I’ll find some the first chance I am able.”

  I release the bandage. “It’s okay. I don’t want coin. I’m good on that. Really. For you, I’m good.”

  His face drains and pales. His life has just been saved and by guild rules it is forfeit to me. A tiny, uncomfortable, worried giggle emerges. Classic Janis. “Hehe, then what?”

  “You said in the street that you’re lying low. What did you mean by that? Why aren’t you taking sides?”

  “Don’t know what to do. Everyone is worried. A lot of hurt going down at the moment. Feels like whatever I decide would be wrong.”

  “Squints picked sides. He picked Tavos.”

  “He did?”

  “Seems like it. You didn’t know?”

  “I just know what I’m told. Hurt this person. Break this. I thought other people would know what to do, but they seemed unsure too. And then they started dying. Didn’t matter which side they were on. They still ended up dead.”

  There’s a few moments where neither of us talk. Then I reach out for the bandaged knee again.

  “What! What! What! What!” It’s almost unintelligible from the panic.

  I pull my hand back. “So who started it?”

  Instead of making eye contact, he’s transfixed, staring into the corner of the room. “Is there is nobody else you can ask?”

  “Nope.”

  It’s almost a whimper and still without eye contact. “You’re sure? Please, tell me there is someone else you can ask.”

  “There isn’t. So . . .” I snap my fingers in front of his face to get his full attention. He looks over. “How did it start?”

  “It just did. Nothing one day, then everything the next. Tavos and Amber were fine: planning and scheming like they normally do, running the guild, getting work done. Then bam, it was over, everybody running for cover.”

  “That fast?”

  “First person died at breakfast. Poisoned. It was an ugly death, all frothing at the mouth and violent seizures.” A small chuckle follows for a few moments before it drifts off into something uncomfortable. “Wasn’t me who did it. And then everything else went bad.”

  “That’s it?”

  Janis looks away, his mind drifting somewhere else for a minute. Then he answers. “Yup. That’s it. Just happened.”

  “Okay. Keep resting here for a while. It’s all good.”

  I get up from the bed, leaving him to recuperate. I don’t feel the need to make him feel better by sharing that I, too, see the mouse in the corner of his room.

  Gloom is getting way too complacent.

  Chapter 49

  Mavis reports that the healer we used last time isn’t available. “He’s overloaded with the massive amount of sick and injured that need treatment from tonight’s fire. It’s not looking good for a lot of the population.”

  I send Muel back to the healer with a large pouch of coins and several bunches of kindling. Thirty minutes later the man returns with Muel, kindling unused.

  “So, you’re the esteemed client who needs my immediate attention.”

  My smile shows all my teeth. “I most certainly am. You did such a great job last time. I wouldn’t dream of using anyone else.”

  “You are the fourth esteemed client tonight.”

  “And were they as convincing as I am in expressing my pressing need?”

  I swear he’s a little bit angry. “Yes. The others sent armed guards who promised my life would come to a quick and untimely end if I didn’t prioritize my patients better.
You’re the first one not to threaten me directly. It was quite creative to imply that not all the fires had yet been lit.” There’s a long, cold glance over to Muel, who is taking this occasion to make sure his shirt looks clean.

  “I see. Do you have many patients lined up at home?”

  “Many, yes.”

  “Muel, when the healer finishes here, accompany him back with a couple of the servers to help with anything he needs.”

  Muel looks up, suddenly engaged again in the conversation. “No problem, boss.”

  I look back to the healer. “Okay then, I’m ready.”

  “I’m sure you are. First step, relax.”

  In no time I’m bandaged, treated and given the divine healing required to fix my wounds in a timely manner.

  Two days later I awake.

  Chapter 50

  Even before I open my eyes, it’s obvious I’m not tucked in nicely at the Bottom Up. The combination of a hard dirt bed, lack of sheets, the stench of rot and the chilled air gives it away.

  Opening my eyes, it’s confirmed: I’m in the city dungeons.

  Next up, a quick physical check and a short stretch confirms that the wounds Tavos inflicted have healed reasonably well. Sure, they still hurt and there are many nasty, yellowed bruises, but even a vigorous round of exercise won’t reopen up any of the cuts.

  I really need to get that healer’s name sometime and say thank you.

  Okay, now let’s see about getting out of here.

  “Jailer! You’ve made a mistake! You have the wrong shortkin! There’s no way it could be me you’re looking for!”

  Silence. Well, other than dripping water, scurrying rats and creaking chains shifting in the draft, it is silent.

  This isn’t promising. “Jailer?”

  No, not the jailer but someone I instantly recognize replies. “Pinty, you’re awake. Good to hear. How are you doing?”

  “Hey, Horace. That’s you, isn’t it?”

  The voice comes from the cell beside me. “It’s me. You’ve been out for a couple days. Nice to hear you back up and going.”

  “Why are we here, Horace?”

  “The Lord Governor seems to think that you might have had something to do with more than half his city burning to its foundations a couple nights ago.”

  “I wonder how he got that idea.”

  “Likely because you cornered the market on kindling the week before his city decided to spontaneously ignite.”