Big Trouble
Page 29
“Thank you,” he said, staring up at her.
“You’re welcome,” Chase looked down. “What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. I guess it all depends on whether or not the others are alive—”
A shout from back in the rubble, and the two friends looked over, to see Maddie come surging out from below, catching a fallen beam with ease and hoisting herself up. Then she reached down to help the next one out, and Chase’s breath rushed out of her in relief at the sight of her father standing there in the moonlight. He stood wounded, shield dented and slicked with gore, but he was alive.
And one by one, the survivors of the Battle of Bothernot’s Cellars wound their way out into the moonlight.
Baconator and Father Gronk.
Benjy Lapin and Danver Posey.
Grummer Gar and Mother Bloom.
And then, helped by the others, the sobbing, shaking form of Burt Crabapple, who was dragging a limp body behind him. Millie Wheadle brought up the end of it, helping to carry the corpse’s feet.
The body... that’s Susan, Chase realized. Susan Crabapple, who had sung so sweetly when they rested on the hillside and ate rolls to recharge their stamina after the long run. Chase stared at the wreckage for a good long while, but as the others started picking their way out, her heart fell.
This was it. This was all. This was everyone who had survived. She did the arithmetic, and faces flashed before her eyes, as she tried to account for everyone who had fallen.
But she was all cried out now. Three times that day she’d cried, and she had no more tears. She knew she ought to feel terrible about that, but right now she just felt numb. She could mourn later, would mourn later.
Then she saw the glances that the survivors were shooting at Thomasi... no. The glances they were shooting at the still form next to him. The half-masked Necromancer, whose chest was still clearly rising and falling. She marked how Grummer Gar pulled on her father’s shoulder, and whispered in his ear. And she noticed that she’d lost sight of Maddie, but there was a brief blurred outline, moving in a wide circle around Thomasi.
Fortunately, judging by Thomasi’s reaction, she wasn’t the only one who had caught the mood.
“I know what you’ve lost,” Thomasi said, moving to stand over the Necromancer. “I know you have cause to end his life. And I’m begging you, don’t.”
His hand started to move up over his mouth...
But he froze as Chase charged up behind him, then turned, spreading her arms wide. “Don’t kill him!” she shouted. “Don’t kill either of them!”
“Chase,” her father breathed, and she realized that he hadn’t seen her back in the shadows. His shoulders lowered, and he seemed to lose some of the menace that she’d been feeling from him. “Greta?”
“Over there. Drunk.”
“What?”
“We’re getting off topic,” rasped Grummer Gar. “It hasn’t missed my notice, Mister Thomasi, that all of those undead guys were clowns. Circus clowns.”
“Yes. I had to supply him with clowns.” Thomasi’s mustaches quivered.
“He did it to save us. He cut a deal with Va— with the Necromancer, and the Necromancer let us go,” Chase said in a rush, looking for Maddie.
“As relieved as I am that you survived that, the fact is that a lot of good folks died here, Chase,” Stem Berrymore’s voice was calm and tight. He was angry, she could tell. The sort of quiet anger that he had never turned upon her, or Greta, or her mother. She quivered to hear it.
“I’m sorry,” she said and fought to keep her eyes from watering. Seems like I’m not entirely out of tears after all.
“What? No, we’re not blaming you,” Benjy Lapin said. Then his eyes fell, and his face hardened. “But that Necromancer needs to die. There’s no justice if he lives.”
Thomasi shook his head, hair blowing in the breeze that Renny’s elemental was kicking up. “You can’t kill him. He’ll be back.”
“Then we’ll kill him again,” Millie Wheadle shrilled.
And Millie’s tones, after everything else that had happened, roused Chase’s anger. She knew it was borne from irritation, so she avoided snapping at the girl. Instead, she shouted, “No! No you won’t!” She turned and waved a hand at the remnants of Bothernot. At the damaged buildings, the burnt inn, and the fallen church. “Too many wins like this, and there won’t be a we. There won’t be a village left.”
Thomasi’s voice was calm by comparison. “She’s talking sense. And if you kill him here, he will be back to settle matters. He’s not as vengeful as Dijornos, but he’ll find a way to cause mischief. But if he lives...” he let his voice trail off.
“This is our fault for not capturing you,” said Stem.
“No. It’s all our faults,” Chase said, stepping in front of an approaching blurry patch. “Yours too, Maddie, so back off!”
“My sister’s dead!” Maddie barked, blurring back into existence, knives leveled at Thomasi’s back. The Ringmaster shot a worried look then snapped his head back around as the halvens stepped forward, sending rubble shifting around them.
“Yes! Your sister’s dead because you killed a lot of prison guards! You stumbled into a bad situation, made the wrong call and boom, half your group is gone,” Chase said, mustering her courage.
Maddie trembled, then let out a great sob, as her daggers fell to the ground. She clutched her face and turned away. To the side, Baconator and Renny rushed for her, and Father Gronk hopped over, patting gingerly at her back.
“And you!” Chase yelled, turning back to the slowly-approaching halven. “It’s your fault too! You BUILT that stupid prison. We lived next to a... a... something horrible that was going to go off sooner or later—”
“Time bomb,” Thomasi suggested.
“—time bombe,” Chase said, wondering briefly what dessert had to do with it, but shoving it aside and focusing on the rant. “And you just shrugged and farmed and got on with your lives rather than do anything about it! Instead of preparing, you hoped nothing would happen. Spoilers: it did! So it’s your fault too, Dad.”
“You don’t know anything about it,” Benjy said, folding his arms. But he’d sheathed his sword, so that was something, and she was glad to see it.
“I know all about it,” she said. “Because it’s my fault most of all.” Her voice softened. “I poked around and tried to figure out what was going on. I went to the graveyard even though Thomasi tried to steer me away. He made the clowns for the Necromancer because I’d die otherwise. I let Dijornos and Speranza loose and threw them in the room to fight it out with Zenobia because it was the best of a lot of bad options, and it let us escape. And I...” she shuddered. “I didn’t go back and tell Mom. I didn’t tell Mom about the zombies before I went to the prison. She would have believed me. She would have evacuated the town. We would have been fine, and nobody would have died.”
“No. No, Sweetpea, it’s not your fault,” Dad put down his sword and let his shield drop. He approached, and Thomasi stepped aside, and Chase let him hug her.
“It is my fault, Dad. I can’t... I couldn’t live here. I wanted adventure. I wanted it so bad that this happened.” She closed her eyes, and it was good she was out of tears. She’d done enough of that. “I’m an Oracle now. I’ve been called by the god of travelers. He called me because I WANT to go. I couldn’t... Bothernot was killing me. That’s why this happened. It’s my punishment for wanting too much.”
Silence for a long moment.
“Only a bit, Sweetpea,” her dad said, releasing her. “Only a bit. It’s fate, that’s all.” He sighed. “Too much fate, and the world starts pulling you into the place you want to be. Why do you think we do this? Why do you think we keep our heads low and our gazes to the dirt? Why do you think we strive to be happy with humble lives?”
Grummer Gar cleared his throat. “In our case it was because we already had lives full of excitement and knew the cost. We wanted peace. And we got it, but only for a time,
I s’pose.” he sighed.
“In the end it wasn’t you,” Thomasi reassured her. “So many advanced fate scores and obvious adventure opportunities, all in the same region... no, it’s a wonder the system let that alone as long as it did. It was bound to boil over. And honestly, young lady, it would have been much worse if you hadn’t been here. You and your friends are the reason this night didn’t end in total tragedy.”
Chase felt her nerves ease, just a bit. They eased even more as she watched the group around her nod and mutters of agreement rose up. She took in a deep breath, and looked down, ears twitching in happiness.
After a while, they fell silent, sitting or standing around, and looking at the unconscious Necromancer. “Well, what’s to be done with him, then?” Benjy Lapin asked.
Thomasi shook his head. “There’s no easy solution, I’m afraid. Although I might have an idea.” He tugged his goatee. “There’s a woman called Zenobia, and sooner or later she’ll be by to check on the prison.” He began but stopped once he saw their faces. “What’s wrong?”
“Let me explain,” Chase said, tugging on one of his coat-tails.
Five minutes later, Thomasi was sitting on the ground, clutching his temples and laughing hysterically. “Oh!” he gasped finally. “Oh, you beautiful little girl! Ah ha ha ha ha... oh wow.” He snorted and recovered. Renny brought him his hat, and he thanked the little fox with a jaunty salute. “You got them all together in a room without dying. Mmf. I am in awe of your manipulation skills, m’dear.”
“It almost didn’t work,” Chase confessed. “We had to haul Speranza out of there as a hostage, because otherwise she might be able to charm us. And that was pretty much death, right there.”
“Worse,” Maddie confirmed, with a shudder. “Her song... it fills your mind until nothing’s left but her. You think only o’ her. Everything you do is for her, everything is about making her happy or trying to figure out ways to make her happy. You’re worse than a slave. You’re a happy slave, grateful that she charmed you.”
“Which is why I’m really hoping she’s not the one who makes it out of there,” Chase said. “One of them is going to, I’m sure. But hopefully not her.”
“It won’t be,” Thomasi said. “Dijornos is too high-level for it to last long, and he’s got... protections, that you lot don’t. If she charms him, it will wear off eventually, then he’ll end her. He already swore to take her final life if she tried that. And Zenobia is wise. There’s no way she didn’t bring in some potions of silence or something of the sort, I’m fairly sure she has precautions against all of us lined up for every visit. Just no precautions against you.” He smiled at Chase.
“Oh, er.” She blushed, a bit. So many compliments, tonight! Then she sobered up. “But the problem remains. What do we do with him?”
Again, they looked down at the Necromancer.
“I’ll take him,” Thomasi said. “At the end of the day he’s a Necromancer, and unless things have significantly changed over the last two decades that’s a killing crime at any of the city-states around here.”
Chase was pretty sure she was the only one who caught the glances that the wandering adventurers shot at each other and the carefully blank faces they turned back to the conversation.
“Yes, it is,” Chase’s dad confirmed. “But what difference will it make if he dies here, or he dies there? Won’t he blame us for his circumstances regardless?”
“It’s complicated,” Thomasi rubbed the back of his neck. “The culture we’re from, we feel differently if there’s a chance to change our fate. A chance to escape.”
“He better not escape!” Millie Wheadle cried. For once Chase agreed with her.
Thomasi shook his head. “He won’t, not unless they get very stupid. But what I’m saying is that no, he won’t hold a grudge against you for turning him over to the law or whatever city executes him. Guards are supposed to punish lawbreakers. It’ll be his own fault if he gets killed for getting caught. But the point is, he’ll be far from here and unlikely to return. Especially since he’ll think Zenobia will be after him. And he might be right about that... I give her a sixty percent chance of walking out of that prison.”
“You think she’ll beat Dijornos? He’s a monster!” Renny said, shuddering.
“She’s a worse one,” Thomasi said. “And also the reason I need to be far from here, before all is said and done. That one... there’s more to her than I know.” He fingered the brim of his hat.
“How do we know you won’t just take him out of town and let him go?” Burt Crabapple snapped. “Why should we trust you?”
“Burt!” Chase gasped.
“We don’t,” Stem Berrymore said, picking up his sword and shield again. Thomasi tensed... then relaxed, as Chase’s father sheathed his blade. “Which is why we’re going to take the Necromancer there ourselves.”
CHAPTER 24: PARTING BY MOONLIGHT
Sometimes, you just had to get it over with.
“Absorb Condition,” Chase chanted, bracing for what was going to hit her.
You have been afflicted with Drunken Stupor!
Before everything could totally turn to mush, she squeezed Vaffanculo’s filthy shirt with her right hand and mouthed, “Silent Activation, Transfer Condition.”
You are no longer afflicted with Drunken Stupor!
The haze faded. Beneath her left hand, Greta groaned and started to sit up.
“Don’t flip out.” Chase told her.
Which was a mistake because Greta turned to face her, saw Vaffanculo on the other side of her sister, and immediately toppled the remnants of a nearby table when she dodged away.
“Greta!” Chase shouted.
Her sister froze, pointing a chair in the Necromancer’s general direction.
“Put down the chair. It’s the only unbroken piece of furniture left in here.” Chase’s wave indicated the remnants of the bakery, gore-stained and trashed from the night’s events.
“Where are all the bodies?” Greta asked, looking thoroughly puzzled.
“Thomasi says that the clowns he calls are weird. They count as having souls, but after they die their bodies disappear as soon as nobody’s looking at them. Saved us the trouble of cleanup, so that’s something, anyway.” Chase morosely considered a long streak of brains on the wall. “Well, mostly. It’s still really messy. Renny promised to clean and press us once we get out of here.”
“Oh.” Greta said and put down the chair. “Maybe we could get a bath too? A bath would be good.”
“Maybe,” Chase said, riffling through the torn cards she’d spent the last few minutes gathering. “If we have the time. There’s… choices.”
“Choices?” Greta blinked.
Chase sighed. “Go outside and talk to Dad. Drag this guy with you. No accidents.” Chase stressed the word. “We’ve got a plan for him.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, about fifty percent of a plan. It should work.”
“Why aren’t you coming with me?” Greta scrutinized her. “What are you going to do in here?”
“I’ve still got a few more of these to find.” Chase waved the trashed Fortuna deck. “It’s supposed to be eighty cards, but there’s five still missing. They have to be somewhere, right?”
“The windows were broken, and Renny was doing his hurricane thing, and there was the air elemental too,” Greta said, ticking things off on her fingers. “They might have been blown to the moon, honestly.”
“Nonetheless, I want to look,” Chase said. “They were Grandmother’s. I owe her that.”
Greta nodded, grabbed the Necromancer by his lanky hair, and dragged him none too gently out through the broken doorway. His half-mask made little pinging sounds, as it bumped against the stones. They’d tried removing it, but it wouldn’t come off. Thomasi had muttered something about soulbound items, and everyone had been too tired to want to ask more questions.
Everyone but Chase, anyway. She was still riding the high from her last level
-up. She didn’t know when this feeling would fade, but for now, she enjoyed being far more powerful than she had been a mere twenty-four hours ago. No, not even that! This whole day… this whole day had been nonstop adventure.
And with adventuring had come power.
Knowing that she’d fail, she searched the shop one more time. Five cards gone. But that was all right, for they were still fresh in her memory. By process of elimination, they were, they had to be the last cards she’d drawn. The first and last fortune she’d ever cast for herself.
Chase righted the broken table and leaned it on the chair. Then she stared, remembering how the cards had lay. Remembering the message she’d drawn.
She’d asked how they could get through the night. And at the time she’d thought the cards were telling her how to deal with the Necromancer.
But the night wasn’t over, was it? And there was another dilemma ahead of her.
Perhaps the cards could help her yet.
“Ace of Rogues,” Chase said, tapping the center of the table. “That’s me. I’m a rogue.”
She moved up. “My fate is the World. If nothing changes, things fall into place…”
Then she drew a line with her finger, down and to the left. “My ally is the Knight of Clerics. That’s got to be Thomasi.”
Then her finger darted down again, this time to the right. “Eight of Warriors. My choice is confinement… accepting confinement?”
Then her finger came up. “My enemy is the Party.”
Chase bowed her head and thought.
That those specific five cards were missing, out of all of them… no. this had to be her Signs and Portents at work.
The fortune had yet to resolve.
“My fate is mine to make,” Chase whispered and left the bakery.
Outside, Mother Bloom was tending to the sole surviving horse from the church collapse. With one final “Lesser Healing,” the beast’s leg snapped back into place. Thomasi held the animal’s head and soothed it, stroking and cooing, as the aged Cleric backed off hastily. Beyond him, a wagon stood, somewhat battered but more-or-less intact. Chase watched Greta working a saw nearby and nodded as part of the damaged buckboard snapped back into place.