by Alex P. Berg
“Have you tried to fix it? I mean, really tried?”
I sighed. “No. I haven’t. And I should. You’re absolutely right about that. But it’s not as if I can go back to the way things were, either. Even if I can patch things up with my coach and teammates, I’ll never be the same. Knowing what I know about the world? How can I focus on softball and engineering with vampires and demons on the loose? I mean, you’re selling yourself short, Larry. You, Dawn, Tank, and Bill? You’re out there saving the world!”
Larry snorted. “When we don’t make it worse, you mean. But I’ll let you in on another secret. The world’s always in need of saving, but somehow it always manages to survive, regardless of what we or anybody else does. And like the world, a good friendship lasts forever.”
“Both can also end in an apocalyptic catastrophe, though,” I said.
“Come on,” said Larry. “What happened to you? I thought you were the optimistic one.”
“Me? What ever gave you that idea.”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t Bill. And Dawn—”
The faint blue light of the field around us wobbled and shook. The stars and galaxies shifted and spun, turning into blurred streaks. Someone crashed a cymbal over my ears, or perhaps imploded a sun. My head felt like it turned inside out, and with a mind-bending thump, I found myself back in Romanov’s armory, with Dawn and Tank standing over us, the latter of the two holding Bill. All three of them were smiling.
35
“Dawn. Tank. Bill,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you, clearly,” said Dawn. “What else would we be doing?”
“You came back for us?”
“Of course we came back for you.” Dawn offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. “You’re part of the team. We don’t leave teammates behind.”
“Or friends, either, for that matter,” said Bill.
“See?” said Larry as Tank helped him to stand. “Told you, Lexie.”
“That the rest of the gang would save us? You had no confidence in that whatsoever.”
“That good friendships last forever,” said Larry. “Speaking of which, how did you save us?”
Bill smiled. “I’ll take the credit for that. You see, while you were busy crafting that spell you shot at Romanov and Lexie was stalling the guy, I’d been plotting my own attack. I figured if I timed it right, when the shit hit the fan I could dive bomb Romanov and give him a good old bite on the arm. So I chewed through the side strap of the baby carrier and waited for the right moment to strike.”
“No way,” I said. “So when Romanov leapt at us with the sword, you jumped out, savaged him with your teeth, and drove him off?”
“Not exactly,” said Bill. “I tried to jump but I sort of rolled out and fell. But on the bright side, I did it fast enough to avoid the spell Larry cast, which bounced off Romanov’s sword and slapped the two of you in your mugs.”
“So how’d you fight Romanov off?” asked Larry. “Did you bite him on the calf?”
“Well, I didn’t precisely fight him off, per se. When the two of you slammed to the ground after being struck by the spell, Romanov pulled back on his sword. He stepped over the two of you with this shocked expression on his face, like he couldn’t believe his own luck. He leaned over and touched Larry’s head to make sure he was really out, I guess. His eyes widened, and he started laughing maniacally. Then he ran off abruptly.”
“So there was no fighting at all?” I said.
“None,” said Bill. “But I didn’t give up, and this is where my heroism really shone through. I knew I had to get ahold of Dawn and Tank, so I chewed through the outer pocket of your pants, Lexie, to get at your phone to give them a call.”
I glanced at my jeans. True to Bill’s word, the outer part of them had been chewed off over my left hip, and the surrounding material was wet and slimy to boot. “Eww. Gross.”
“Heroic,” corrected Bill. “But it gets better. You see, I actually couldn’t call Dawn using your cell phone because I didn’t know your passkey to unlock it.”
“Couldn’t you have pressed it against my thumb?” I said.
“Well, I could’ve if I had arms,” said Bill. “You try dragging yourself by the tongue and holding a cell phone between your teeth at the same time.”
“So how did you contact Dawn and Tank?” asked Larry.
“I did the only thing left that I could,” said Bill. “I went out in search of them myself. With my tongue as my only means of propulsion, I dragged myself inch by painstaking inch back to the stairs, swallowing roughly half a pound of dust and cat hair along the way. Then I tongued my way up to the main level and back to the car where I found them waiting.”
“Or at least that was his intention,” said Dawn. “In reality, we found him panting at the base of the lowest basement step having not made an inch of progress for the previous two hours.”
“Two hours?” I said.
“About that,” said Larry. “The mind prison is a construct completely separate from the space time continuum. The concept of time doesn’t exist there. What for us seemed like a few minutes clearly was a lot more. But what I don’t understand is how you all managed to free us from its confines.”
“Bill can’t take credit for that one,” said Dawn. “I was the one who sprung you loose.”
“But how?” said Larry. “Last time I checked, you can’t slice a metaphysical mind prison open with a katana.”
“I didn’t cut it open. I used magic to free you.”
“Magic?” Larry laughed. “You’re not a witch. There’s no way you’ve been hiding that from me all along. I would’ve smelled it.”
Dawn fixed Larry with a scornful look. “I’m not a barista either, but I can still brew a mean cup of coffee. You think I haven’t been paying attention to the way you operate for the past several years?”
“I’m not buying it,” said Larry. “You couldn’t untangle a spell of that complexity on your own, not without the proper training.”
“Well, not on my own, exactly,” said Dawn. “Lucky for me you talk in your sleep.”
Larry squinted, confused. “So?”
“So, that one time we slept together wasn’t a total waste, as disappointing as the experience was. You mumbled one of your four hundred middle names to yourself in the middle of the night. For the record, the demons now have possession of ‘Archibald.’”
Larry blew a raspberry. “I never cared for that one anyway. Nice work, though. I’m proud of you.”
Dawn smiled. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, well, Dawn and Tank might’ve done good work,” I said, “but we sure as hell didn’t. In case it wasn’t obvious, Romanov got away, and he has both the sword and the amulet.”
“Yeah, Bill told us,” said Dawn. “But don’t praise us too much. We weren’t successful in our mission, either. The crystals were gone from the clearing. Romanov must’ve collected them and stashed them somewhere after we crashed his rave.”
“And the map,” said Bill. “Don’t forget he’s still got the map.”
“Right,” I said. “So Romanov still has four of the five objects, making this excursion a complete and total failure.”
“Could’ve been worse,” said Larry. “At least Romanov didn’t kill us like he threatened to.”
“Yeah,” I said, scratching my head. “I wonder why he didn’t?”
“Maybe because he knew that if he did, he’d never find where I’d hidden the tome,” said Larry. “Remember, I’ve locked away the secret to its location deep within my mind.”
I pursed my lips, thinking about Bill’s recollection of the events. How Romanov had stepped over us, touched Larry’s head, and then broken out in laughter. “Larry? How does that mind prison spell work, exactly?”
“Well, it traps the victim’s mind in the prison, cutting it off from the corporeal self as I mentioned, giving only the spell’s caster access to the mind that was—oh, crap. Romanov knows where the Librum is
, doesn’t he?”
“You gifted Romanov the means with which to read your mind and discover the location of the tome?” said Tank.
“Calm down,” I said. “Larry and I already had a moment in the mind prison where I called him a lot of names and subsequently forgave him for his idiocy, so let’s extend that feeling of charity to the present.”
“It’s okay,” said Larry. “Even knowing where it is won’t help Romanov. I made sure to put it in a place where he wouldn’t be able to reach it, just as I promised.”
“And where is that?” asked Dawn.
“In a book.”
I blinked. “You put the book in a book? Like, you swapped the cover out?”
“No,” said Larry. “I gave it to Adric. The bibliomancer. I told him to store it in one of his texts. He’s the only one who can get it out.”
Dawn frowned. “So let me get this straight. You gave the book of power to a sorcerer who can read latin and specializes in books.”
“That’s right.”
“Someone who, if threatened with torture or death, could easily remove the Librum from its literary confines and furthermore could help Romanov interpret and use the mystical powers held within the tome.”
Larry smiled nervously. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“Larry, I’m finding it harder and harder to keep our mind prison moment going,” I said.
Larry swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m thinking maybe we should pay Adric a quick visit.”
36
The Suburban’s tires screeched as I slammed on the brakes, pulling the beast onto the sidewalk outside PCL. Larry, Dawn, Tank, and I jumped out of the truck and raced toward the library. Larry cradled Bill under his arm, his leather duster flapping in the breeze. Dawn’s swords swayed as she ran, but it was Tank who’d channeled his inner commando. He’d strapped a bandolier filled with 40 mm grenades to his chest. He held a grenade launcher in one hand, a sub-machine gun in the other, and had multiple pistols, shotguns, and assault rifles attached at his hips and back. He’d also pulled a red bandana from somewhere and wrapped it around his forehead to complete the look.
We tore across the plaza in the pre-dawn darkness and skidded to a halt in front of the doors. The library wouldn’t open for another hour, but we didn’t have to worry about how to get in. Someone had already taken care of that for us. Shards of glass littered the concrete alongside twisted metal frames.
Glass crunched underfoot as Larry stepped cautiously through the carnage. “Crap. Crap crap crap.”
“Move!” said Dawn. “He might still be here.”
We barged in, oblivious to security systems or cameras or anything of the sort. If Romanov hadn’t tripped any alarms on his way in, I figured we were safe for the time being. Even if we weren’t I had a feeling the enormous black man carrying fifty pounds of firearms would be the first person the police would target, assuming they weren’t too busy fighting off an apocalyptic catastrophe of Romanov’s creation instead.
We skirted the elevators, instead racing up the stairs as fast as our legs could carry us all the way to the sixth floor. The stairwell door nearly burst off its hinges as Tank crashed through it first, then we dashed past the staff office and through the book stacks en route to Adric’s converted janitor’s closet. The door was closed as we approached it, and for a moment my heart soared with unexpected hope, but it didn’t last.
Tank kicked the door open, and we all let out a collective sigh of defeat. Adric’s closet had been trashed. Books littered the floor, his cot had been overturned, and the first generation iMac Adric had recovered from the pages of the old Macworld magazine had been crushed as if by a giant fist. Beyond that, a twelve foot gash split the wall, leaving behind a gaping hole edged with crumbling mortar that peered out over the southern edge of the University of Texas campus, but even that wasn’t the worst part. The worst past was that Adric was gone.
“Damn,” said Larry. “This is bad. This is really bad.” He darted forward and started sifting through the books on the floor, tossing them to the side as he scanned the covers. “The Count of Monte Cristo? Good, but no. Javascript for Dummies? Definitely not. Ranma ½? Didn’t realize Adric read manga. Also no.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“The book Adric stashed the Librum inside of,” said Larry. “A book so boring, so godawful that no one would ever bother opening it. The Canterbury Tales.”
“The Canterbury Tales is a classic of English literature,” I said. “What do you have against it?”
“Nothing, really,” said Larry. “But Geoffrey Chaucer has been dead for over six hundred years, so he’s not likely to sue me for libel for insulting his baby.”
“If it’s a spoken insult, it’s considered slander.”
“Trust me, it’s libel we need to worry about,” said Larry.
“Would you cut it out?” Dawn stood by the mangled outer wall. “Arguing over minutiae isn’t going to get us closer to Romanov.”
“Then help me look through these books, will you?”
“It’s not here, Larry,” said Dawn. “Or if it is, it doesn’t contain the Librum anymore. That should be obvious. Do you really think Romanov would’ve left with Adric in tow but not the tome?”
“We don’t know for a fact it was Romanov who broke in,” said Larry.
“Of course we do,” said Dawn. “Who else would’ve kidnapped Adric? Not to mention this gash in the wall is clearly the work of a magic sword. Trust me, I know blades.”
Larry sighed and collapsed against the wall, dropping the book he held in his hands. “Damnit. You’re right. I know you are, I just didn’t want to admit it. I’m sorry, guys. I screwed up again, and now Romanov has all four of the objects of power, five if you include that stupid map. With the power of the tome added to what the sword, amulet, and crystal already grant him… I’m not sure there’s any way we can stop him.”
“Hey,” I said, stepping over a pile of discarded books to stand over Larry. “What kind of attitude is that? In the past three days we’ve managed to survive getting jumped by angry bikers—twice I might add, fought our way through a horde of demonic nightmare beasts, survived an attack by a pack of horny ecstasy-addled vampires, and made our way out of a supposedly permanent mind prison, thanks to Dawn and Tank. So unless we’re actively getting cut in half by a magic sword or having our faces torn off by angry vampires, I’d say there’s still time to avert the apocalypse, especially if we work together. What was it you said while we were trapped in your spell? That the bonds of friendship are the most powerful force on Earth. Together, we’re unstoppable.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I never said that,” said Larry.
“Well, you should’ve,” I said. “Because that’s the assumption I’m going to proceed on until proven otherwise. We’re a team, and we’re going to save the world. Right? Who’s with me?”
I stuck my hand out and waited, fierce determination burning in my heart. For a moment, I thought I’d made an ass of myself and everyone would walk away, heads hanging low, but then Dawn placed her hand over mine.
“I’m with you, girl,” she said. “You’re a badass, and I’ll fight by your side anytime.”
“Thanks, Dawn,” I said. “Right back at you.”
“Back at both of you.” Tank slapped his hand over the top. “You’re the fiercest pair of skinny chicks who don’t use guns I’ve ever met.”
“Really?” I said. “You think I’m skinny?”
“Everyone seems skinny to me.”
Larry shook his head as he picked himself off the ground. “Damn, Lexie. I know I already told you this, but from the moment we first met I knew you had it in you.” He stuck his hand out and grasped the rest of ours. “All right. I’m in, all the way. But from now on, Lexie’s in charge. I think she’s earned it.”
“Hell yeah!” screamed Bill. “Larry! Hold me out. Let me get my tongue on the pile.”
I shrugged. “What the hell. W
hy not? Let’s get him in here.”
Larry held Bill out, and he licked the top of our hand quartet. Thankfully, it was Larry’s hand on top, so he got the worst of it.
“So,” I said as we pulled our hands back. “Our number one priority—hell, our only priority—is stopping Romanov before he can unleash the power of his artifacts. All we have to do is find him first. Larry? Can you track Adric? I know you couldn’t track Tank through the woods, but Adric’s a fellow magic user. Surely you can follow his scent.”
Larry shook his head. “I could if I were close. As things stand, that’s a no go.”
“We could call the police,” said Tank. “Have them put an APB on Romanov.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Larry. “Frank was kind of a dick when I talked to him last, but he did say to call him when we were in his jurisdiction.”
“And we still have Betsy,” said Dawn. “We could bring her here. Have her get a whiff of Adric’s scent. His real one, I mean.”
“Guys. Guys,” said Bill. “If I had a hand, I’d be raising it.”
“Yes, Bill?” I said. “You have a suggestion?”
“This isn’t rocket science,” he said. “We gave Romanov a map. It even had a location circled on it.”
I blinked. “Oh my god. He’s right. The South Congress Bridge. Let’s go!”
37
The Suburban roared as I punched it down Congress, the speedometer pushing against the stopper at the far right of the gauge thanks to another jolt of Larry’s magical power. The side streets ticked down mere seconds apart: 8th, 7th, 6th, 5th. The skyline expanded as I cleared the last of the skyscrapers on 2nd, the faintest hint of purple and blue brightening the sky. Somehow the roads remained miraculously empty even as dawn approached. I didn’t think it was a good sign.
I blasted through the red light at Cesar Chavez and slammed on the brakes. The ‘burban shuddered as we skidded two hundred and fifty feet to a stop. I didn’t even bother to kill the engine as I hopped out. If I was wearing sunglasses, I would’ve taken them off dramatically while muttering something pithy, like “Good god…” Instead, I stared, slack-jawed, at the scene before me.
