by Cebelius
"How do you know?" she asked.
Though he was remembering the words the Behemoth had spoken to him about losing pieces of his soul, Terry jerked a thumb at Isthil and said, "She's still a Nightmare, and her bond with Thomas was broken yesterday."
Halla nodded, then her face twisted with fearful realization as she blurted, "I didn't mean-!"
He held up a hand to stop her, still smiling as he said, "I know what you meant. It's fine."
"Husband, what are you going to do?" Prada asked.
She was staring at the wounds she had made, and though her expression was a mixture of pain and worry, she couldn't help but lick her lips.
"Depends on Isthil," he said, glancing toward the Nightmare. "Are you willing to take me to the Wildervast, wherever that is?"
"O'course," she said quietly. "D'ye think I'd abandon ye? Now?"
"You're not with me unless you want to be," he said. "I won't hold you to anything. You asked me for freedom. You've got it. I'm on a dangerous road and you don't have to come with me. All I'll ask is that you take me where I need to go. I did kinda turn Yuri loose figuring you would."
She looked at him with piercing silver eyes, her hair floating around her face as it always seemed to, then she said, "I cannae decide if I like what yer tellin' me, Terry Mack. Do ye need me, or not?"
"I need you."
"Then I'm yourn. I dinnae know what ye expected, but I know well the value of gratitude, and ye have mine. That at least, ye kin rely on."
Terry rubbed at his face as his tongue played idly with his loose tooth. He nodded and said, "I'll take it."
"I will go with you," Asturial declared. "We are not bound, Terrence. You will not refuse me."
He shook his head, chuckling, "No. I won't. I need all the help I can get."
"I will come."
Yuri's voice was hoarse with emotion, and Terry glanced up in surprise as the tiger man jerked his sword from the dirt and cleaned it with a scrap of cloth before sheathing it.
When he met Terry's eye, Yuri's expression was terrible to behold. No amount of fur could hide the despair, or the fury. For a moment, Terry thought seriously about refusing him. He was a wreck, and without a calm mind, he might be more of a danger than a help.
If I turn him down now ... he'll never trust me again. He's taken care of me through so much. I have to see him through this.
Terry nodded once, and simply said, "Thank you."
12
Fear and Loathing in the Wildervast
"What did ye expect?"
Terry glanced from the empty plain to Isthil, who stood next to him in full armor with her shield on her left arm. On her opposite flank were Yuri Kolenko and Asturial. He and they had each put a hand on Isthil's hide, and she had taken a single step. That step had brought them to the other side of ... something. Terry could feel the difference, but it went deeper than just the fact that the carnival and everyone else was gone.
He felt like a stranger. He didn't belong here. He knew it, and the world around him knew it. There was an uneasy tension in the air.
It feels like I'm in a Mexican standoff with reality.
It felt like if he made one wrong move, something would give. A moment later he knew it wasn't just him.
"I do not like the feel of this," Yuri muttered darkly. "We should not be here."
"No, we probably shouldn't," Terry agreed. "But we are here, best get this over with. First, I have a question. Who in the hell is Baba Yaga?"
"Baba Yaga is one of the twelve Powers, Terrence," Asturial said with a glance toward Yuri. "She is the most powerful witch alive, second only to one other in overall magical skill, and very dangerous. So much so that until now, we who have spoken of her have been careful not to use her name."
"What does it matter now?" Yuri asked. "Vlad did this. He was her puppet. If her eyes are not already on us, they soon will be."
Terry nodded. "So now all we have to do is find her, and figure out what she wants."
As he glanced around, Yuri shrugged uneasily while Asturial — after a moment's thought — folded her arms across her chest and said, "It does seem that way."
"And you guys think she listens to people who use her name?"
Terry watched as Asturial and Yuri both nodded, then looked at Isthil, who held up both hands and said, "Dinnae look at me. I havena spoken with the Baba in hundreds of years. Witches seem not to care much for Thomas' religion, so we didna get many of their kind in the zone."
"Is there a difference between a witch and a mage?" Terry asked.
"Yes, but many of those differences are academic, or matters of perspective," Asturial said. "Suffice it to say they prefer curses, and you're under one now. Before you ask, no, I can't break it. A curse is somewhat like a geas, though unwillingly applied to the bearer. One is required to satisfy a geas, no exceptions. A curse can be broken either by satisfying the conditions, or killing the one who cursed you. Given Vlad is already dead, the curse was never really his to begin with. You really will have to deal with Baba Yaga."
"Fuck's sake," Terry muttered. He thought about it, and the more he thought about it the angrier he got. He was just about done with being manipulated into doing someone else's dirty work. If she really was listening in on their conversation, he had more than half a mind to teach her some new words.
"Terrence, before you do anything foolish, I should tell you that Baba Yaga is not like Vlad. If you try to deal with her in the same way, it will end badly," Asturial said. "I say this because I get the impression you're considering something monumentally stupid. The insane do not play fair, and Baba Yaga is known for her irrational behavior."
"So calling her out isn't the best idea?" he asked.
"As far as ideas go, it is quite possibly the worst you've ever had. Even if Vlad's entire life was centered around bringing you here, to this spot, Baba Yaga could throw all of that away and start over on a whim. Don't do it. Focus on what can be done, not what you would like to do."
Terry nodded, glanced around, then focused on Isthil as he said, "Tell me about the Wildervast. Where are we exactly?"
"The Wildervast is a dreaming plane," Isthil said, and she pointed east. There, the light of pre-dawn was brightening the horizon. Terry realized that couldn't possibly be right. It was barely an hour past sunset. "It doesna follow many of the rules. Time flows just the same, but there's no way to judge it. The sun rises and falls as he wishes, and the moon, she does likewise. Sometimes they're both up at the same time, and they'll fight or fuck while the stars look on."
Isthil chuckled as she glanced up at the sky. "That's a sight to see, let me tell you. Sometimes dreamers wind up here, and the dead pass through on their way to wherever they're bound to go. The thing to remember about the Wildervast is this: it's a world of desire. Want something bad enough, and you'll get it. It's a dangerous place, Terry Mack. If someone wants you dead more than you want to live, then you'll die, an' that's that. Words have power always, but here more than most places. Watch your tongue."
Nodding, Terry made eye contact with each of his companions, then looked to Isthil again as he asked, "Can you take us to Baba Yaga?"
"She'll be in the forest, and the nearest one of those is south of here," the Nightmare replied.
"So just any forest will do?" Terry asked.
Isthil's eerily bright smile lit her ebon face as she said, "Well that just depends, Terry Mack. How badly do ye want to meet her?"
"Ahh, yeah. I get it. It'll be the right forest." His fists clenched as the frustration welled up in him again at being used. "I wanna meet this b- ... witch, in the worst way."
"I swear. You have a death wish, Terrence," Asturial said sharply. "Think before you speak!"
Letting his breath out slowly, he glanced toward the burgeoning sunrise and presuming that to be east, turned to make his way south.
Isthil stepped up next to him and tilted her head to look down at him as she asked, "Do ye nay wish to ride?"
Shaking his head, he said, "Nope! I'll stay on my own two feet, thanks."
"Ye dinnae trust me?" Isthil asked.
"Trust has nothing to do with it."
"What then? I have a saddle. It'll be comfortable."
Terry sighed and admitted, "I don't know how. It'd just be awkward for both of us."
Shrugging, Isthil took a quick few steps to put herself ahead of him. Terry fell in behind her, and found himself flanked by Asturial on the left and Yuri on the right.
A flash of irritation passed through him as he realized that he'd been placed in the middle, but before he could mention it, Asturial spoke.
"And to think, I was impatient to bond with you," the dragon said quietly. "Had I done so, I would not now be able to help you."
Terry nodded, but wasn't sure what to say. He chose to follow a piece of advice he'd received from the Lion of Florence, and said nothing at all. Asturial glanced at him, then past him at Yuri, before she said, "Perhaps you should consider bonding me now. You are weak. You may need bond powers to accomplish whatever trials await."
Terry thought about that, then shook his head as he said, "It's just as likely that if we do that, the curse will break the bond and kick you out. I don't really know how this shit works, and unless you do, I suggest we leave well enough alone."
Asturial opened her mouth, closed it, then after a moment said only, "If that is what you wish."
He scowled, then sighed and said, "I just can't risk losing you. Sorry."
He knew what she'd wanted to say, and knew that she wouldn't have been entirely out of bounds to say it either. Everything between the two of them was out in the open. Terry no longer hated her, but he wasn't exactly fond of her either. To be honest, he'd been avoiding her, and she probably knew it too. He had come to respect her, and had yielded to her genuine plea to stay, but the idea of taking her to bed just ... didn't appeal to him.
Though that's not for lack of a figure ... she's certainly got that.
Asturial's body was a proxy, a flesh golem she had created to interact with normal-sized people. It was stronger — and far more dense — than it looked, but the womanly curves were all there. In fact, Terry had a sneaking suspicion that she'd been accentuating some of them lately. She could mold herself as she chose; he knew that. When Utlatlahu had damaged her face so badly that one of her eye sockets had been destroyed and much of her flesh stripped away, it had taken her no more than a day and a half to repair the damage on her own. Broken bones in her tail had taken less than that.
Her wild red hair and the scales accenting her face made it look like she was wearing a kabuki mask, and she had black ram-like horns spiraling around a pair of long, elfin ears. Her golden eyes were slitted like a cat's, and her features were refined, which suited the haughty expression that seemed to be her default.
As attractive as she might be on the surface though, he had visions of her riding him and turning his bones to powder. When he'd hit her during their fight, it had felt like slamming his fist into a cinder block wrapped with a few layers of paper. For all he knew, if she came while he was inside her he might wind up with a back alley castration. His bond gifts might protect him from that sort of damage, but he didn't have those now.
No thanks.
Still, he knew that he would have to give their relationship some serious thought, provided they got out of this latest insanity alive.
After no more than fifteen minutes or so of walking, the sun had peeked over the horizon, then set again. The moon meanwhile had remained high overhead, and clouds drifted to cover it every few minutes. It was full and bright, and the stars were twinkling where they could be seen. The air was damp and heavy, and smelled of green grasses. As he marveled again at the beauty of Celestine, he noticed the dark line of trees before them, and wondered when they'd first come into sight.
Distance seemed to be playing tricks on him, because what looked to him one moment to be several miles away was only a hundred yards or so off a few moments later, and a group of dark figures detached themselves from the deeper shadows under the trees and moved to intercept them.
They were led by a tall man wearing what looked to Terry like the same sort of broadcloth coat he remembered seeing on paintings of George Washington. He even had a tricorn hat, a ruffle at his collar, and a rapier at his waist. It was the first such sword he'd seen on Celestine.
The four others with him were shadows. At first he'd thought the light was playing tricks, but as they got closer he realized that they were literally just shadows. The only thing Terry could discern about them was their silhouette. They were man-shaped and spread out a bit into a semicircle as the leader's hand rose in a flourish, then came down along with his head as he made a rakish and — to Terry's mind at least — mocking bow.
"You're such a pretty creature, I'm glad to meet you here," the tall man said with pleasant charm, eyes on Asturial. "Here upon these lonesome plains, your beauty shines so clear. Let not your heart be troubled, my name is Renardine, and should you consent to these folk relent, for your company I'm keen."
Terry started laughing. He couldn't help it, but then Asturial stepped forward and said in a light bantering voice quite unlike anything Terry had ever heard from her, "Kind sir, you're hardly civil. My company forsake. I fear your manner marks you as something of a rake."
"Okay, someone tell me what is going on," Terry said, taking a step forward so that he could see Asturial's expression. What he saw on her face made it clear to him something was seriously wrong. Her golden eyes were glazed, her pupils completely rounded as she gazed steadily at Renardine, her expression one of flirty interest.
A glance toward the foppishly dressed man who called himself Renardine won Terry a prideful sneer, but the man kept his attention on Asturial as he said, "I am no rake, nor brigand, though falsely under search, but with you I'll wager I could brave all danger, come sit upon my perch?"
As he said the last, he rolled his hips in a way that made it perfectly clear what perch he had in mind, and Terry's temper snapped.
"Isthil?"
The Nightmare glanced down at him, her silver eyes glimmering. "Aye?"
"Would you do me a favor and wreck this fool? Watch his sword. If he's any good with it he'll be fast."
Isthil chuckled and raised her shield as she gave him a savage grin.
"Aye!"
As she charged Renardine, Terry made for one of the shadows. While his supernatural strength and speed were gone, that didn't mean he was slow by any stretch of the imagination, and he made it to the thing just as it had begun to draw the shadow of what looked like a cutlass.
Terry's right cross ended the draw. It might look like a shadow peeled off a wall, but it was solid enough to take the hit, and Terry hit it hard.
The second of the two shadows on his side of Renardine got its sword out and was turning to slash at him. As it did so Terry reached out, caught the shadow he'd already struck, and swung it into the path of the blow. The shadow sword passed cleanly through the shadow man, and the latter dissipated without a sound as Terry stepped in and landed a quick one-two combo on his remaining opponent, then reached for the weapon hand of the thing and — catching it — jerked hard to loosen it up, then broke its elbow with a quick forearm strike as he stripped the sword and spun, severing the shadow's head from its body with its own blade.
Unfortunately, as the shadow dissipated, so did the sword.
I probably should have seen that coming, he mused, flexing his hands. While he'd gone right, Yuri had engaged the two shadows on Rendardine's left and was embroiled in a furious duel. As he watched, he saw Yuri skewer one of the shadow men but his blade slipped cleanly through and did no damage. The frustrated tilt of Yuri's ears and the lash of his tail told Terry this wasn't the first time that had happened.
Meanwhile, Renardine was embroiled in a furious contest with Isthil, who was holding him at bay with her shield.
As he glanced that way though, Renardine leapt b
ackward, reached into his coat, and drew a flintlock pistol straight out of a pirate movie.
Oh shit.
Isthil's armor looked thick, but it was a good bet it wouldn't hold up under gunfire.
Terry charged the man, and Renardine spotted him. His aim wavered, and Isthil reached him in the next instant, shield bashing him to the ground. While his sword clattered away, he kept hold of his pistol, and Terry skidded to his knees to catch the man's gun hand as he sought to lift it, slamming it back to the turf. The weapon fired and acrid smoke billowed from the weapon, but the ball hit no one.
"Rogue! Brigand!" Renardine hissed. "Jealousy is unbecoming in a gentleman!"
Terry slammed a fist into his face once, twice, a third time as he growled, "Gentleman I ain't."
"M-mercy! I plead for mercy!" Rendardine cried as Terry hit him again, knocking his ridiculous hat from his head. "I shall desist! My word upon it!"
"Drop the gun," Terry said, fist cocked for another shot, but apparently the man had had enough. Terry saw his grip loosen and he lifted both empty hands in front of his face, waggling his fingers as though to prove he had nothing. That drew Terry's attention to his mop of brown hair, which had been braided in the back but hung loose up top around a pair of what were unmistakably fox ears.
"A fucking fox?" Terry asked rhetorically. "Really?"
"Not a fucking fox at the moment, more's the pity," Renardine said, peeking over the edges of his hands. "Please don't hit me again?"
"Depends. What did you do to Asturial?" Terry asked as he spared a glance to see that while Yuri seemed to have had trouble against the shadows, they were now gone and Asturial stood near him, shaken from whatever trance the fox had put her under.
"I merely propositioned her, as I am wont to do," Renardine said with a trace of petulance in his tone. "How was I to know she was yours?"
"Uh, because she's with me?" Terry asked.
"She's a virgin," the fox man replied.
"I am no such thing," Asturial said as she stopped just next to Terry and glared down at Renardine. "This is just a proxy body!"
