Promise: Caulborn #2

by Nicholas Olivo

  Herb hesitantly took the hand. After an awkward couple of pumps. Gears released Herb’s hand and turned back to Jake’s monitors. Herb took a step back and jerked his head, indicating I should follow. “What is he?” Herb whispered.

  “He’s a gremlin.”

  “Wow. Guess someone fed him after midnight, huh?”

  I’ll take this moment to state just how good a gremlin’s ears are. Gears grabbed Jake’s water bottle, leaped from the desk to the floor in front of Herb, and poured the water over his head. He let out a high-pitched scream as he opened his yellow eyes as wide as he could and threw his arms out to his sides. He shook violently, flicking little droplets of water everywhere.

  Herb let out a high-pitched shriek of his own and fell to the floor. He crashed on his butt and scrambled backward, away from Gears, until he hit Jake’s desk. Gearstripper advanced very slowly on the necromancer.

  “Now you listen very closely,” Gears whispered as he stabbed a clawed finger at Herb’s chest. “We do not speak of that movie. Ever. Is that understood?” The fat in Herb’s chin and neck bobbed violently as he nodded. “Good,” Gears said, and vaulted back up onto the desk. He grumbled as he stalked back over to Jake’s monitors. “Stupid Spielberg. It’s always midnight somewhere. And reproduction by getting wet, that’s the most idiotic thing ever.”

  I gave Herb a hand up and he ran a hand over his face. “You good?” He nodded. “Excellent. We’ve got work to do. Gears, gather up anything else you need from here and let’s get going.”

  Herb led us to his well-loved metallic-green Taurus station wagon. I slung Gears and my backpack into the back seat and buckled in. The car was immaculately clean and had a faint hint of lemon. There were no fast-food wrappers on the floor, no dust on the dashboard, no fingerprints on the windows or windshield. In short, it was unnerving. Glancing in the back seat I saw a couple of blankets, a snowbrush, and a set of neatly coiled jumper cables. Wow. Herb was as much of a neat freak as Megan.

  When we got to the castle, the parking lot was empty and no lights could be seen inside. In fact, the only light was coming from the next-door neighbor’s house. You’d think a castle would have a ton of privacy, be set on a fifty-acre lot, and have a moat filled with piranha. Hammond Castle was nestled in the suburbs and shared a driveway with the house next door. The scent of saltwater hung in the air and a thick fog was rolling in off the ocean. The fog might give us some cover, so that was something. Gears hopped up on the dashboard. “Oh, wow,” he squeaked. “This is so cool. Vinnie, do you think we’ll have time to take pictures?”

  “No,” Herb and I said together. I continued, “Sorry, pal, but we can sightsee another time.” Gears’s ears drooped, but he nodded. I slung Gears and his backpack onto my back, and the three of us crossed the parking lot, stepped onto a snow-covered path that cut between two huge hedges, and dropped onto the castle grounds.

  The castle had been converted to a museum years ago, and the main public entrance was around to the left. We, however, headed for the real front door, which required crossing a drawbridge extended over a dry moat. Herb and I picked our way across the drawbridge; not as much snow had fallen here at the coast, but patches of black ice were everywhere and navigating it with Gears on my back was tricky. The last thing I wanted was to take a header into the moat. When we finally got to the main door, an imposing door that looked like something out of Lord of the Rings, Herb put a hand on my shoulder. “Vincent, there are restless spirits here. I don’t know how long they’ll tolerate us.”

  Gears popped out of the bag. “You mean we might get to meet John Hammond’s ghost?” His claws tightened on my shoulder. “Oh, that would be so cool, Vinnie.”

  “Focus, Gears. We get in, grab the relic and the plans, and get out. Let’s keep otherworldly encounters off tonight’s agenda.”

  Gears harrumphed as I Opened the door.

  “How exactly did you do that?” Herb asked as we stepped inside. “You didn’t have a key or lock picks.”

  “They must’ve forgotten to lock it.”

  “You didn’t touch the handle.”

  “Strange,” I said. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.” Herb gave me a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything more.

  Given how big the castle was, I expected the inside to be a huge, cavernous space. Instead, the corridor we were in was normal, maybe even a bit smaller than normal. Stained-glass windows and tapestries adorned the walls, and the place had a faint musty smell. When I commented on the size of the room, Herb just gave me a half smile. “You ever try to heat a castle, Vincent?” He nodded to our right. “The great hall is this way, and it’ll be more what you’re expecting.” We passed into a wider hallway. To the left was a lobby with a sign for the gift shop. We turned right, heading deeper into the castle.

  We walked down a set of stone stairs. The musty smell got stronger as we descended into the great hall. Now this was more like it. The ceiling in the great hall must’ve been sixty feet high, and the room at least that much across. A massive pipe organ dominated our end of the hall and a huge stained-glass window loomed above it. Medieval weapons and artifacts were stationed along the walls with faded paper tags taped next to them, describing each item. Herb went about two thirds of the way into the room and stopped at a case on the right side. “This is it,” he said, gesturing to the chest. “The skull of Columbus’s navigator.”

  “Holy cow, that’s the relic?” I asked.

  “Yeah, what were you expecting?” Herb replied.

  “I don’t know, some sort of paranormal compass or astrolabe or something like that.”

  “Nope,” Herb replied. “Hammond was a big Columbus fanatic. This was one of his prize collection pieces. We’ll snag the skull and then I’ll commune with the spirit who inhabited it to figure out where Megan is.”

  “Um, no offense,” I said, “but didn’t Columbus wind up in the wrong place?”

  Herb frowned at me. “He navigated correctly, Vincent, he was just doing it with incomplete data. The course he plotted would’ve worked if America hadn’t been in the way.”

  “Never looked at it like that,” I said. “All right, let’s grab that on the way out. Gears, where’s this lab?”

  “It’s through the basement,” Herb replied.

  “You know this place awfully well,” I said. “You a tour guide here or something?”

  Herb smirked, his eyes glowing the faintest shade of orange. “Not exactly.”

  Realization hit me. “You’re in contact with one of the castle’s ghosts, aren’t you?” So much for avoiding otherworldly encounters.

  Herb nodded. “Her name is Irene, the late lady of the castle. She’s going to guide us to Hammond’s lab.”

  Gears whistled, his yellow eyes going huge. “Tell her that her husband was a genius and an inspiration to inventors everywhere,” he said reverently.

  Herb smiled. “She thanks you for the compliment.”

  I rubbed my face. “No offense, but the late Mrs. Hammond is okay with us breaking into her house, sneaking into her husband’s lab, and making off with some if his schematics and a priceless artifact?”

  Herb shuffled his feet. “Yeah, about that. She’s willing to guide us and lead us to the lab. In exchange, we have to rid the lower levels of the castle of some undesirables.”

  “What sort of undesirables?” I asked flatly. All I could think of were the video games where your first mission is to wipe out a bunch of giant rats that infested the sewers beneath the city.

  “She doesn’t know their names, but she says they are a cruel and vicious bunch. There are ten or so of them, and they have taken other creatures prisoner. She will guide us to the lab and let us take whatever we want from the castle in return for clearing them out.” I ground my teeth. I didn’t have time for this. “Vincent,” Herb said. “I want to be done here more than you do. Accepting Irene’s offer will be faster in the long run. For Megan’s sake, let’s not dawdle.”

  I let out a br
eath. “All right, Herb. Tell her she’s got a deal. Which way to the undesirables?”

  Herb led us down a set of stairs marked Employees Only. The descent put us in a musty hallway that ended in a room full of landscaping equipment. We climbed over a bunch of wheelbarrows, hoses, and winterized lawnmowers. Gears must’ve felt right at home; the place was almost as cluttered as his workshop. We picked our way to the far wall, where Herb knelt down on the floor, counted four stones up, and pressed his palm against the wall. There was a faint click and a section of the wall slid away on hidden rollers. A thick sheet of cobwebs obscured the view. My switchblade made short work of them, and we were soon looking down a stone spiral staircase.

  “Irene says that even the museum curator doesn’t know about this passage. We’re the first people to walk down these steps since Hammond himself.” That got another squee from Gears.

  “So how did the creatures get in?” I asked.

  “She says they just appeared one day last month.” Herb’s voice dropped to a whisper and he held up a hand. “And they’re just down this hall.”

  About halfway down the hall, we came upon a battered metal husk. It looked like a steel crab that had been torn open by a giant can opener. Jagged gashes ran up and down its sides, and bulbs that must’ve served as eyes were shattered and dark. Gears scurried out of his pack and down my leg before I could stop him. He ran his tiny three-fingered hands over the shell. “Wow,” he whispered. “This was a security drone. Oh wow, the circuitry is beautiful. Herb, ask Irene if I can take this when we leave.”

  A horrific banging sound came from down the hall; it reminded me of when a little kid used a wooden spoon and some pots as a drum set. If that were the case, there must’ve been an entire band of toddler-cookware-percussionists down there.

  “What is that?” Gears asked.

  A mouse peeked its head out of a hole in the wall, squeaked, and scurried back inside. “Let’s find out,” I said. While I may not be able to communicate telepathically with people, Urisk telepathy does let me communicate with and control most animals.

  “What are you doing?” Herb asked.

  “Running recon,” I replied as I telepathically dominated the mouse and turned it around.

  “How?” Herb asked. I held up a hand to shush him, and the mouse mimicked my movement with its paw. It’s tough to separate minds sometimes. I ran the mouse down the hall and into the room. From the mouse’s perspective an inch off the floor, everything looked huge and menacing. It took me a second to adjust to the new view, but once I did, I groaned. The mouse gave a mournful squeak right along with me.

  “What’s wrong, Vinnie?” Gears asked.

  “Redcaps,” I said, relaying what I could see to the others. “That makes sense. They’re attracted to castles the way flies are to honey. They’ll take up residence in any castle they come across. That banging is the sound of them running around in their heavy iron boots and banging the blades of their scythes against things.”

  “I thought iron was toxic to fae,” Herb said.

  Well, well, our necromancer knew about more than just the dead. “Yeah, but redcaps are masochists. They like the pain the iron causes them. They—hang on.” Through the mouse, I saw a cage filled with a dozen humanoids, the tallest no bigger than a toddler. They had a distinct reptilian cast to their features, their luminescent golden eyes sad. The only way I could tell that was that several of them had their faces pointed at the floor, and tears the size of water balloons splashed around my mouse.

  “Looks like the redcaps have taken a group of kobolds prisoner,” I frowned. “This just got complicated. We’ll have to deal with the redcaps without hurting the kobolds.” I looked at Herb. “You have any weapons?” The necromancer shook his head. “How about calling up some of those deathless?”

  “Given the circumstances, that would be very rude, Vincent.” Herb said flatly. Yeah, that had been kind of a long shot. “However, Irene says there’s a cache of weapons in a locker back the way we came.” Through the mouse, I saw a redcap grab a kobold and violently yank it from the cage. The kobold yelped like a dog and vanished. The redcap struggled with empty air, throwing wild punches that ultimately connected with something solid. The kobold’s limp form became visible a second later.

  The redcaps were giggling and making a show of swinging their scythes just inches from the kobold’s head. No time to screw around. “You get the weapons and get in there quick,” I called over my shoulder as I broke contact with the mouse and ran into the room. The shift in perspective was staggering. From the mouse’s point of view, this room had seemed like Gillette Stadium. To me as a human, it was just a twenty-foot square, lit by fires in metal drums placed in each corner. The kobolds’ cage was tucked in the right corner, the redcaps scattered throughout. Four of them were holding down the limp kobold while the fifth raised its scythe to split the poor creature’s skull.

  Not on my watch.

  I shot out a blast of telekinetic force, wrenching the scythe from the redcap’s hands. The weapon spun end over end across the room and rebounded off the stones. The redcaps whirled on me. “Who dares interrupt us?” snarled the one I’d disarmed. “Introduce yourself proper, human, we’ll be wanting to get your epitaph right.”

  “I am Vincent Corinthos, and I give you one chance to end this peacefully.” At the mention of my name, the redcaps took a collective step back. I used that moment to get a better look at them; a mouse’s eyes aren’t much for detail like this. The redcaps looked like miniature old men. They couldn’t have been more than three feet tall and had gnarled faces. Facially, they looked like they were seventy or eighty. But their bodies were another story.

  Each redcap was bare-chested and had six-pack abs that would’ve made any GQ model jealous. Their arms were corded with muscles and scars and looked like they could bend steel with their bare hands. Coarse gray trousers disappeared into the tops of heavy iron boots that were marred with rust. Half a dozen clasps and locks ran up and down the boots, each one rusted shut. Atop each of their heads was a deep red stocking cap, from which the creatures took their names. The coloring actually came from the rather grotesque practice of dunking the hat into the blood of their victims. I was going to make sure they didn’t get a chance to give their caps a fresh coat.

  When the kobolds heard my name, I saw hope bloom on their faces. Some of them began to wring their hands in excitement, and I heard both redcaps and kobolds whisper the phrase “god of the Urisk.”

  The redcap leader rubbed his stubbly chin as he took me in. “Is that so, then? You come walking in here all high and mighty and thinking we’ll just bow and scrape to you? Offer apologies? Let the lizards here go after they came a’trespassing on our castle?”

  “This castle does not belong to you. Its true owners want you gone, and I will not allow you to torment these kobolds. You can either leave peacefully or be destroyed. And make your decision now, because I don’t have time to waste dicking around with the likes of you.” Okay, I’ll admit that wasn’t diplomatic. There’s a reason Megan usually handles the negotiations. I suppose, deep down, I was looking for a fight. And I got it. The self-appointed redcap leader snarled and charged forward. I tapped my followers’ faith and sent forth a flash of fire so hot and fierce that the redcap was instantly immolated. His ashes continued toward me for a couple of steps, his boots reduced to molten puddles of slag on the floor.

  When you’re a god, there’s a certain level of special effects that you have to use in order to keep up appearances. Unfortunately, that particular burst of Spielberg-inspired pyrotechnics had used up a lot more faith than I’d intended. I sighed and did my best look bored. “Did he speak for all of you?” I asked, turning my attention to the other redcaps.

  They looked from me to the smoldering remains of their leader’s boots, and back to me. As one, as if on cue, they raised their scythes, howled, and charged. I didn’t have enough faith to immolate them all. Instead, I threw out a wall of telekinetic f
orce. The redcaps slammed into it, the ones in the back crushing their brethren up front in their haste to get to me. I pushed hard and flung the lot of them across the room. The weight of their boots, which was much heavier than I’d anticipated, forced me to use extra faith. I was fully charged thanks to my recent visit to the Bright Side, but the last thing I needed was to get careless and run myself dry.

  The telekinetic shockwave sent them hurtling backward into a heap. Several of the redcaps were now nursing shattered bones. The kobold they’d had pinned down was nowhere to be seen, and some of his companions in the cage cheered. A few of the redcaps got to their feet. One made a rude hand gesture at me, and he and three of his fellows charged again. I sent out another wave of force, but the redcap on my left rolled to the side and brought up his scythe with incredible speed. The tip of the blade sliced neatly through my shirt. A thin line of blood appeared on my chest, and the redcap positively giggled with glee.

  “Gods ain’t supposed to bleed, Lord Corinthos,” he scoffed. He jumped back and spun his scythe in a very Jet Li-esque fashion. “I’ll handle him,” he called to the others. “You kill those squawking lizards.” The redcap thundered toward me. I flung him into his mate, who was reaching for the lock on the kobolds’ cage. The first’s boots crushed the second’s head with a wet crunch. I was feeling a bit smug, so I used a tiny bit of faith to radiate holy light. My luminescent special effects were spoiled when a redcap I hadn’t seen kicked my legs out from under me. I went down like a sack of bricks, and the little bastard pounced on my chest, pummeling me with knuckles so hard they might as well have been made of rock.

  I felt my nose break, and I’m pretty sure I swallowed one of my teeth. Suddenly, the kobold who’d been pinned down earlier appeared next to me and spat a ball of fire at the redcap’s head. The redcap let out a yelp of surprise as his beard caught on fire, then he leapt off of me and knocked the kobold out cold. It happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to roll to my knees before the redcap was back on my chest, pummeling me.