Promise: Caulborn #2

by Nicholas Olivo

  A huge grin of relief split my face as I pushed through the museum’s doors. No guards, no cops, no witnesses. With the exception of the treasure chest trying to eat my hand, this had gone off without a hitch. Things were finally looking up. When I was around the corner from the museum, I went down a set of stairs that put me in a small alcove away from the street and next to the Charles River. Under the streetlamps, I pulled out the oilcloth-wrapped bundle and examined its contents. It was a metal cross about as long as my forearm with flared edges and razor-sharp tips. I rubbed my chin as I regarded it. It’d be good to know a little bit more about this thing before I blindly handed it over to Laras, and there was only one place to do that.

  Antiquated Treasures is a posh little antique store owned by an old high school friend of mine. While the store itself is quite successful, Thad makes his real money as a distributor and appraiser of magical artifacts. I opened the shop’s door and found Thad very carefully arranging a jade chess set on a mahogany end table. “Vincent!” He was dressed in an orange shirt, tan slacks, and bright pink converse high tops. He rushed over and swept me up in a hug. “Sweetie, it’s been weeks since I’ve seen you. How’ve you been?”

  I untangled myself from his embrace. Thad’s over six feet tall, and a good seven inches taller than I am; I had to take a step back to look up into his face. “Fine, Thad. How’s business?”

  Thad let out a long, weary sigh. “Things have been hectic since my back room stock clerk quit.”

  Despite the good naturedness of his drama, I felt a twinge of guilt. “You know I had to.”

  Thad chucked me on the shoulder. “Oh come on, Vincent. Between saving the city and being a god, I was amazed you stuck around as long as you did. I’ll find someone else to sweep the back.” He looked at me and pointed at the parcel I was carrying. “I’m guessing this isn’t a social call?”

  “You’re right. I need you to analyze something for me.”

  “All righty,” he said. “Let’s go to the back.” We walked through the door marked Employees Only. The back room was a haphazard jumble of crates, boxes, and shipping tubes. If you’ve ever seen the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, you’ve got a pretty good idea of the state of things. We wove through the stacks to Thad’s desk. He cleared off some of the debris and gestured for me to take a seat. “Okay, Vincent. What are we looking at?”

  I withdrew the cross from the oilskin and passed it to Thad. “Be careful,” I said. “The edges are wicked sharp.” Thad took it gingerly and pursed his lips. The overhead lights reflected dully off the cross’s gray metal as he turned it over in his hands. He hefted it a few times.

  “It’s lighter than iron,” he said, “but heavier than steel.” He produced a jeweler’s loop from his breast pocket and fit it over his right eye. The lens glowed a dull blue. He let out a low whistle. “There are a couple of enchantments on this,” he said. “And whoever crafted them was absolutely magnificent. And I mean magnificent. The work is incredibly delicate and detailed.”

  “Can you tell what the enchantments do?” I asked.

  He tapped the jeweler’s loop and the lens glowed green. He tapped it again and it turned yellow. “I can tell they’re adaptive in nature. Whatever this thing is, it was intended to be versatile.” He tapped the lens again and it turned purple. “There’s some kind of sensor enchantment here, too.”

  “Is it dangerous?” I asked.

  Thad held the cross in one hand and rubbed his chin with the other. “Not on the surface. These enchantments are utilitarian, but the thing that bothers me is there’s no obvious purpose to them. You usually see scanner enchantments in conjunction with something else. You scan if someone is a werewolf, and an alarm enchantment goes off, or something like that. I don’t see what this is connected to. It’s like the cross’s enchantments are connected back to themselves, but that doesn’t make any sense.” He set the cross down on the desk and frowned at it.

  “It could be part of a set.” I said. “ Maybe there are other pieces it’s supposed to connect to? You know, split up a dangerous artifact into its component parts and then scatter them across the globe.”

  “You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, sweetie,” Thad said as he popped off his jeweler’s loop. “But I suppose it’s possible. If you can leave it with me for a few days, I could thoroughly test it.”

  “Thanks, Thad, but I need to deliver this to someone as soon as possible. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t some kind of hyper-destructive mega weapon that would destroy all life on the planet.”

  “Doesn’t look like it does that,” Thad said. “Do you trust the people you’re giving it to?”

  “They seem on the up-and-up,” I replied.

  Thad’s brow furrowed. “Be careful, Vincent.”

  “Don’t worry,” I smiled. “And thanks.”

  Thad walked me to the door. “Drop by anytime, sweetie. We should double date soon. It’s been so long since James and I have seen Petra.”

  “You bet,” I smiled. “I’ll give you a call.” I hugged Thad goodbye and caught a cab back to Keeper Central. I rubbed absently at my forearm where the manacle had clamped down on me. It kinda felt like I’d gotten a sunburn there. The cabbie looked at me funny when I got out in front of the abandoned building, but he didn’t say anything. I gave him a decent tip and waited for him to drive off before I ascended the steps to the building.

  I stepped inside the building and nodded to Julie. I wondered if she was like Jake, who was always stationed at the front desk. Or maybe they had a whole team of Julies, and just rotated them throughout the day. It hadn’t come up when I’d spoken with Laras earlier, and I dismissed the thought for now. Keeper staffing was the least of my concerns. She paged Laras and a few moments later, the man appeared in the lobby. Despite the hour, he looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I wondered if Keepers didn’t need to sleep. Laras raised his eyebrows at me. “So soon, Mr. Corinthos?” I handed Laras the bundle in response. His smile split his face. “Wonderful, Mr. Corinthos, simply wonderful.”

  I waved the statement aside. “Your people will begin protecting Megan immediately?”

  “Of course,” Laras replied. He turned to a filing cabinet and brought out a file folder. “This is our contract with you, Mr. Corinthos.” I flipped open the folder and found three pages paper clipped together. The language was simple; the Keepers would assign watchers to Megan to ensure her safety. These Keepers would protect her from all manner of physical harm. The third page was just a series of symbols; it wasn’t in any language I recognized.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  Laras frowned. “Forgive me,” he said, removing the page. “This is simply a sheet of instructions for the Keepers in our own special cypher. It should not have been included here.” He folded the sheet and tucked it into his coat pocket. He signed the contract with a flourish and then handed me his pen. Laras beamed as I put my John Hancock on the page. “Now then, I will have a detail assigned to this case post haste, Mr. Corinthos.” He turned to Julie. “Dispatch the team we discussed earlier.” She nodded and picked up the phone. Laras turned back to me. “You no longer need to worry about this sword hanging over your head, Mr. Corinthos. I assure you my people will hold their end of the bargain.” And just like that, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I shook his hand and left the building.

  A celebration was in order. I decided I’d pop over to the Bright Side for a bit, declare some sort of holiday and set off some fireworks. I’d call it the Day of Promises or something like that. I set off for the Children’s Museum with a spring in my step and not a care in the world.

  A mist rolled along the ground as I neared the Children’s Museum, and I gave a happy kick through it. With Megan warded by the Keepers, I could finally relax. Knots in my shoulders that had been there for months were starting to loosen, and the sheer feeling of relief that was coursing through me was intoxicating. I gave a second kick through the mist, which had gotten thicker, and w
as now billowing upward from my ankles to my knees.

  A quick glance up and down the street showed me that the mist was only present in a twelve-foot diameter, centered on me. My good mood vanished and paranoia kicked in. My mind quickly made note of a steel delivery door about twenty feet away. Always good to know where your exits are.

  I leaped out of the mist and readied a ball of fire. The mist coalesced into two six-foot-tall figures, clad in tattered leather armor. It took me a moment to recognize them as the Viking mummies from the Museum of Science. Their skin was a deep blue and shone faintly under the streetlights. Milky white orbs stared out of their damp faces and their hair was soaking wet and flat against their skulls. The scent of rot clung to them, and I had to convince my stomach not to turn over. My forearm suddenly burned, and I pushed back my sleeve to see a brand that hadn’t been there before in the shape of that stylized cross. This glowed a dull red, and upon seeing it, the Viking on the left barked something out at me in what I assumed was old Norse, which unfortunately I don’t speak. One of these days, I need to get Gears to invent a babel fish.

  The Vikings were looking at me expectantly. I held out my hands. “Look, I can’t understand you, but my guess is you want that cross back. I’m sorry, but I don’t have it anymore. Let me find us an interpreter and maybe we can talk this out.”

  The Viking on the right looked at its companion and grunted something. It shrugged in reply, and the grunter strode to a dumpster, effortlessly hoisted it above its head and calmly flung it at me.

  I threw myself out of the way, using a telekinetic push to get more distance. The dumpster crumpled like an aluminum can as it crashed against the side of a building. Black trash bags tore open and sprayed their contents all over the alley. I got hit in the face with a half-eaten Quarter Pounder and flailed about in surprise.

  Half a dozen rats streamed out of the dumpster, and I sensed them rather than saw them, thanks to my telepathic abilities. In addition to telekinesis and pyrokinesis, the Urisk possess a form of telepathy, and can mentally communicate with most animals. The rats were panicked, but it was more than that, they’d somehow been driven mad. Inside my mind, the rats were giving out high-pitched screeches, and their thoughts were an incoherent jumble. I gave my head a shake; having insane rodents inside your head is disorienting, to say the least. More mist rolled in all around me. The moon disappeared behind a thick cloud cover that hadn’t been there a few moments before.

  Okay, Corinthos, think. You’re up against undead that are super-strong, can control the weather, and drive rodents insane. I called forth holy light, hoping to banish the mist. It only made me a better target for my assailants. A VW Beetle, one of the originals, came sailing out of the mist. Its tire grazed my cheek before it shattered against the brick of the building. The rear bumper exploded off and struck me in the small of the back. I cried out and crumpled to the ground. My light vanished and my temperature spiked; my healing fever, which lets me recover from wounds faster than a normal human could, kicked in. Pain blazed in my back and down my legs. I crawled toward the door I’d seen earlier and Opened it.

  I scrambled to my feet, staggered through, and telekinetically slammed the door behind me. A quick blast of fire melted the lock, and I heard the creatures continue to throw heavy objects. The door shuddered beneath the onslaught, but it was holding. I was grateful there were no other cars parked on the street. I thought about trying to open a portal, but discarded the idea; I didn’t want to risk opening another tear in reality. I doubted I’d be lucky enough for Megan and Herb to happen along in time again to save me, and my fever wouldn’t work that fast. I was fumbling my phone out of my pocket when I realized the attack against the door had stopped.

  Hope blossomed in my chest for just a moment. Had they actually given up? Then I saw the blue mist wafting in beneath the door. Shit shit shit. I got to my feet, ignoring the screaming agony that was my back, and ran for a side door. I Opened it, then turned left and Opened a second door back to the street. I lurched as fast as I could. “Aviorla,” I called to the phasilion who lived behind the museum. “It’s Vincent Corinthos, open to the Bright Side, please!” The bricks of one of the walls shimmered and then the phasilion’s gateway blossomed open for me and I fell through.

  The light of the twin suns of the realm of the fae blinded me as I flopped onto the purple and silver grass. The scents of back alley Boston had been replaced with a fresh smell that’s normally reserved for Yankee Candles, but is genuine here. The pain in my back vanished, my fatigue fell away, and my power surged. If I could take this level of power back with me to Boston, I’d totally lay waste to those jokers.

  “Thank you, Aviorla,” I said as she shimmered shut behind me. Even with all the oddities I encounter on a daily basis, phasilion stand out as strange. They’re living, sentient gateways that bridge the Bright Side and Earth. A lot of them have attitude problems, and many of them enjoy letting unsuspecting humans or fae cross between worlds and then stranding them there. Aviorla is a rare and welcome exception.

  “You are welcome, Vincent Corinthos,” her disembodied voice said, sounding like tinkling chimes. I stretched and took a deep breath. That had been too close. What were those things? I looked at the mark on my arm. It had faded, but still throbbed. Had I gotten this when the treasure chest tried to eat me? I’d have to figure that out when I went back to Boston. I sighed as my followers’ faith flooded through me, and I took a moment to send out a blessing of peace and health.

  Lord, Aegeon’s deep voice rumbled in my mind. Welcome back.

  Glad to be here, Aegeon, I telepathically replied as I looked up at the stone and diamond dome that encircled the Urisk city. I’d made Aegeon in response to dark forces that had plagued the Urisk for decades. Nothing could get through him unless he wanted it to. Where’s Lotholio?

  He conducts services, the great protector replied.

  My cuts sealed themselves and the handful of fractures I’d sustained knit as I got to my feet. As a god, I can’t be killed on the plane where I’m worshipped. I cracked my neck and flexed my fingers. Good to go.

  The cathedral, a great white stone tower several hundred feet tall, stood just a few minutes’ walk from Aviorla. A handful of Urisk saw me and fell to their knees as I passed, their feather-topped heads pressed close to the ground. When Lotholio had come through to my world all those years ago, he’d been dubbed the Dover Demon by the people who snatched a glimpse of him. I always thought that was too harsh a name. Sure, the Urisk were definitely strange looking with their oversized luminescent eyes, pale gray skin, and elongated fingers, but I wouldn’t say they were demonic. I blessed my prone followers, giving them health and strength, and stepped through the open double doors of the cathedral.

  The cathedral was dimly lit by glowing purple crystals, which were embedded into sconces set every fifteen feet. Fifteen rows of crystal pews were arranged facing a pulpit, which sat on a dais styled like a sun with fifteen rays emanating from it. My birthday is June fifteenth. The Urisk took that to mean that fifteen is a sacred number to me and arranged the cathedral accordingly.

  Lotholio, garbed in his green high priest’s stole, stood at the head of a small congregation. He gestured widely with his spindly hands as he spoke to the Urisk telepathically in his own language. I mentally shot him a quick hello and asked him to not interrupt his service as I took a seat in the back.

  Lotholio acknowledged my presence with a mental whisper of his own but did not break stride. “My friends,” he said. “The time of the great eclipse is upon us again. It has been nearly two hundred years since the last chrysalis formation, and yet the signs already manifest themselves. He held up his long, pale fingers and spread them for all to see. A thin layer of a viscous yellow liquid, almost like honey, was slowly oozing down his digits. “This is proof of Lord Corinthos’s protection of us. We shall endure the coming cataclysm in our shells, and will step out of them when the danger has passed.” There were anxious murmurs fro
m the congregation, and I could sense my followers’ unease.

  I wanted to say something to soothe them, but the problem was I had absolutely no idea what Lotholio was talking about. I’d only been the Urisk’s god for a short period of time, less than ten years, and the fact was they’d adopted me. I hadn’t created them. I didn’t know anything about a pending eclipse, and I sure as hell didn’t know what was oozing out of Lotholio’s pores.

  One of the other Urisk in the cathedral spotted me and pointed. “Lord Corinthos is here,” he squeaked. The congregation turned en masse, their eyes brightening from top to bottom. The Urisk don’t display emotion the same way humans do; the light in their eyes changes based on what they’re feeling. The brightening pattern I’d just seen was the Urisk sign of surprise. They clumsily tried to bow to me from the pews. I left my seat and stood next to Lotholio.

  One of the first things Commander Courageous taught me about having followers was there would be times when you had no clue what to do. That was okay, the trick was to look like you knew what you were doing, and people would trust you and stay calm. I stood straight, smiled, and passed my gaze slowly over all of them. “The coming days may be frightening and dark, but take solace in the knowledge that I will protect you and ensure your safety. Have faith, my people, the Urisk will endure.”

  Their relief was palpable, and my power levels spiked. There was always a danger in spending too much time on the Bright Side. Gods are like batteries that store faith energy. Problem is, there’s no “oh, you’re at maximum power now so we’re going to stop putting more charge into you” setting. If I get overpowered, I might literally explode. I was a ways off of that, but I decided to use up some of my power soon.