Quantum Heights: Book one of the Dead Path Chronicles

by Richard A. Valicek

  Mravish hopped up and down. “I was so worried.”

  “Then, she may live,” said Mishka.

  “Yes. Nigel did attempt to plant his seed within her. But, nature has triumphed over the dark forces,” said Grongone.

  “And, what of the burning village she saw?” asked Chooko.

  “That, I’m afraid, is to come. The village is Jethro,” said Grongone somberly. “Tomorrow they will enter the village. And, soon, war will enter as well. As we speak, Makoor is preparing his demons for battle upon Jethro. There will be much bloodshed.” Grongone slipped back into his powers and was relaying the images arriving to him. “I see that Caprius and Calista are walking into a trap. In her dream, Calista saw Caprius’ lifeless body by her side, something she did not tell him. But, she didn’t see her own body beside his soon thereafter. She will perish, too.” Grongone sat back, his eyes open wide. “I have been blindsided! I did not see it.”

  “Caprius and Calista must be saved. You must intervene!” said Chooko.

  Grongone was shaking his head. “Calista is not a knight master. Nor has the prophecy stated that the daughter of Cambrozes Genesis would become one,” he said.

  “Are you saying that the prophecy was misread?” asked Mishka.

  Grongone glared at the Muskata who dared challenge him. “I know the prophecy,” said Grongone. “And, so do you.”

  “Then, what of Calista Genesis? What is to become of her?” asked Treshka.

  “I do not wish to put any more burden upon her. She was not meant to die,” said Chooko. “Grongone?”

  “I am left with no choice!” said Grongone. He stood and began to pace.

  “There is no other way, Grongone?” said Mishka gently.

  “Yes, but to have the daughter of Cambrozes Genesis become a knight master with great power? What would Felicia - the Golden Fleece think?” asked Grongone.

  The Muskatas began to gather closer around their master’s feet, their sweet small voices imploring, their palms facing up in question and pleading. “You either embrace her with the full power of Petoshine or you condemn her to death,” said Treshka.

  “Caprius cannot save her and fight the battle upon Jethro at the same time,” said Mishka.

  “If she is to become a knight master, a great ally she will become for Caprius,” said Treshka.

  “This is a prophecy to be rewritten,” said Mravish. “It changes things.”

  “Yes, but having Calista endure the power, how will it end in the future?” asked Chooko.

  “It is a prophecy unforeseen,” said Mishka. All the Muskatas shook their little monkey heads quietly.

  “I will have to give this matter more thought. There is time,” said Grongone. “But, now we must absorb the light of Petoshine. Come, my Muskata friends. We must go now.”

  Chapter 13

  First Knight

  Cynthia rode through the town of Jethro on horseback. Rain was dumping down, turning everything gray and sodden, but she barely noticed it, her thoughts on the task ahead. The elderly man had had tipped her off that some slug named Kyle Rivers was squirreled away in a little strip bar in a dismal part of town. She needed to find out where the scum would gather to bid on Colburn’s serum and give him the tidy profit he was slobbering for. The sound of her horse’s hooves on the scrabbled ground below were nearly drowned out by the pouring rain as she made her way to Reaper’s Strip Bar.

  When she arrived, she tethered the horse to a post and entered. She paused in the doorway, regretting the whole errand. The place was dark, filled with smoke, and stank of sour beer. They began to walk between the rows of tables. Up front was the stage where a beautiful girl, probably not older than her son, was dancing with a pole. The place was packed with scruffy middle-aged men, and as she walked through, she could feel their eyes on her body. “Hey, honey, why don’t you set yourself down on my lap,” called a man after her. “You look mighty tasty.” Cynthia, who had her arms crossed, coolly turned around, eyed him with disdain, and kept walking. She had to look at everyone there to find her man, and she was growing more disgusted by the second.

  She paused and scanned the room. “Hey, unless you plan on taking your clothes off, I don’t want you blocking my view,” said the man behind her.

  Cynthia looked at him. “Keep your boy toy in your pants,” she said. Just then, Cynthia spotted the man who fit Kyle’s description in the corner. She walked toward him.

  The man was thin with boney cheeks and long white hair. She stood in front of his table. He took a gulp of his beer and set the glass down with his eyes on her. Cynthia unzipped the top part of her skin tight black outfit revealing the top of her cleavage. “Smile for me,” she said sweetly. The man grinned, and sure enough, his two front teeth were gold. “What’s up, doc? I’m the bunny you’re looking for.” Cynthia pulled her zipper down to her belly. “You Kyle Rivers?” she asked him.

  “That all depends on what you want to show me,” he said, his grin growing even wider.

  Cynthia sat on the empty chair beside him. A waitress came by. “I’m buying,” she said to him. “Two beers. No wait; make mine a Dykonian soda. A girls got to watch her weight.” She leaned toward Kyle. “I want in,” she murmured. Kyle’s breath quickened and he rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I know you are with Colburn, and I want to bid on the serum.”

  “It’s going to cost you,” he said, gazing at her chest.

  “When and where is the bidding?” she asked.

  “Five hundred. I get my money, I tell you when and where,” said Kyle.

  “How about I up the price. Instead of five hundred, I’ll give you these.” She caressed her breasts seductively. “You’ll get to see everything. I’ll take it all off. Right here, in back,” said Cynthia. “You even get to touch,” she smiled warmly. “So, where’s the bidding?” she asked again. Kyle didn’t answer. Cynthia took a deep breath and released a clip at the front of her bra, revealing the soft skin beneath. He looked down and began to reach for her. Cynthia clipped her bra back together and zipped up her outfit to the chest, keeping it open just enough to hold his interest. “Show’s over, Kyle.” She stood.

  Kyle gestured with his hand. “Alright, alright. You can find Colburn at the Sun Myers warehouse. It’s just north of Quanta-paloose. The bidding’s at noon two days from now.”

  Cynthia flashed him a gracious smile. She took a big gulp of her soda and set the glass down on the table. She straddled his leg, unzipped her outfit to her belly and stood over him a moment, as if she were going to keep undressing. She waited as he began to look a bit wild in the eyes, then abruptly zipped up all the way to the top. “Hope you enjoyed, Kyle. That’s all there is.”

  Kyle stood in anger, kicking his chair over. Cynthia reached over and yanked out both her swords and held them in front of her. “Careful there, I wouldn’t want to accidentally cut something off,” she said, staring down at his pants. Kyle glared at her a minute before slowly and painfully leaning over, righting his chair and sitting. “There are rooms over there,” she pointed to backstage. “Perhaps you need a few minutes to yourself? Oh, and you’re welcome to my soda.” Cynthia slowly backed away before heading for the door.

  “Hey, doll, you want a job?” the owner of the strip bar asked as she passed the front. Cynthia walked out of the strip bar without a word.

  “I didn’t even have to flash a nipple,” she said smirking. “I even still have time to get something to eat. I wonder what’s good around here,” she said. Seeing a restaurant at the end of the block, Cynthia walked toward it and went inside.

  ***

  After claiming two horses at the stables, Caprius and Calista rode over the trails mixed with dirt and snow out of the city of Galdington to the city of Jethro. Keeping his distance was Vernon Goncool, also on horseback. Vernon was furious over the death of his brother and felt not only stricken with guilt for not having been there to prevent it but blind with anger that the two had gotten the better of him. He wanted to the solace
claymore and see both Caprius and Calista dead. But, he knew he couldn’t be hasty and had to bide his time, so he remained in the shadows until he could give them their due.

  The early morning was thick with fog, making it difficult to see more than an arm’s length in front of the horses. After Caprius and Calista went down a small hill, they could make out the barest outlines of buildings in the city of Jethro. They continued on, unaware that Vernon was standing on the hilltop behind them obscured by the mist swirling around him and his steed. He made a dark silhouette against the gloomy background.

  Calista and Caprius made their way through the gravel-covered main road and looked in the shops as they passed. It was a quaint town, but the people seemed to be deeply affected by the fog. They walked about listless, no one speaking to anyone else. Caprius stopped one man, “I say, my good sir, can you tell me where the local pub is?” The man looked slowly at Caprius but said nothing. Calista nudged Caprius that they should move along. The man looked half-dead and very frail. They waited another moment to see if he’d answer, but he just stood there, his mouth dumbly open a bit. So, Caprius and Calista rode on. “Not a very helpful chap, was he?” Caprius remarked. A moment later, Caprius called out to a woman on a porch rocker. “I say, old woman, is there a pub nearby?” he asked. The woman just rocked back and forth.

  “This is very odd,” said Calista, shrugging. “I guess we’ll just have to find a pub ourselves.” They kept on until they finally came upon an old rundown pub beside a church with several large bells in the belfry. The pub’s sign was broken. “‘The Greasy Spoon,’” Caprius snickered. “That hardly sounds delicious.”

  There was nothing else around, so Calista shrugged and dismounted. “I guess this place will have to do,” she said. They tethered their horses to a post and went in. A few people were sitting at tables with pints of ale before them. They lifted the glasses to their mouths, but no one spoke. Not a word. When the two walked in, everyone slowly turned and stared at them.

  “Hello there,” Caprius wiggled his fingers to a middle-aged couple. But, they just looked at him with the same sodden expression worn by everyone else.

  “Caprius, I think these people are mute,” whispered Calista.

  “Either that or they’re scared of something,” said Caprius. They sat at a small table. The place felt less like a pub and more like a funeral home. Caprius suspected he could stick a pin in the man beside him and he wouldn’t react.

  After at least ten minutes passed, Calista raised her voice. “Are we ever going to get served around here?” Calista began tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

  “Is there a waiter in the house?” Caprius called out. Everyone turned to stare at Caprius. “Well, at least we know they can hear,” he whispered to her.

  He tried to stare down a few of the people, but their gazes were unwavering. “Mathis never mentioned this place was so dead. I thought the village of Kasheema was dead, but this place has Kasheema beat,” said Caprius. A moment later, from behind them, the floor creaked. It was a waiter. Calista continued to tap her foot on the floor. The people were still staring at them. The waiter stood over six feet tall; he had a large belly, receding hairline with long soft orange hair that fell down his broad back, and a scruffy, unshaven face.

  The waiter stood by Calista. “Please don’t tap your foot. It makes too much noise,” he whispered.

  Calista stopped tapping. “Sorry,” she smiled. “Can we get a menu, please? We’re starving!” The man just stood looking down at her. They both looked at the waiter wondering if he would respond. Calista tried again. “Do you have any specials?” she asked slowly. The waiter didn’t say anything.

  “Alright, let’s try this,” said Caprius. He spoke carefully, enunciating each syllable. “We would like two glasses of your finest ale and two specials. Do you understand?”

  The waiter nodded yes and tried to smile. It took his face several seconds to arrive at the finished product. Before he turned, he said again, “Please, stop tapping your foot. It makes too much noise.” The waiter let his smile fall away and walked into the kitchen. Calista stopped tapping her foot. “Well, it seems they only serve one thing, so I hope it’s good.”

  In a corner of the room at a booth was Vernon Goncool. He had a clear sightline to the two and stared unabashedly through the smoke of the cigar he was holding.

  After about five minutes, the waiter brought ale to Caprius and Calista. He plunked the glasses down and walked away. They sipped tentatively. “At least the ale is good,” said Calista.

  “Yes, quite good actually,” said Caprius. They savored their ale not knowing when the food might come. After some time, the waiter reappeared with two plates of food. Calista stared at the meal, unsure of what it was. “What is this stuff?” she muttered.

  Caprius dipped his fork in. “It tastes like… I’m not sure, but I think it’s meatloaf.”

  Calista lifted a limp brown thing with her fork. “Sautéed with long-stem mushrooms,” she said in an arrogant voice. “Oh, come on. This is awful.”

  “Well, it’s the only Greasy Spoon in town, so eat up,” grinned Caprius, digging in.

  “I’m sorry, but this isn’t at all something I want to eat!” said Calista. She was hungry, tired, and annoyed she had to choke down such a dreadful meal. Everyone in the place immediately turned around to look at her. While the pair was occupied by everyone else’s eyes, Vernon Goncool stood and left the pub. He was light on his feet, almost as if he were floating.

  “Come on, Calista. This is all the food we’re going to get for who knows how long. I suspect we’re going to need our strength,” said Caprius, his mouth full.

  Calista pursed her lips. She chewed and swallowed until everything was gone. At that moment, a woman who was eyeing the two of them approached their table and sat down.

  “Well, hello there, Caprius,” she said.

  Caprius’ eyes widened. “What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?” he asked.

  She laughed. “No, merely a coincidence that we’re meeting here. I’m on mission. I had a lead that brought me to this part of town.”

  “Still, there’s more to you than meets the eye,” said Caprius.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?” she asked, rubbing Calista’s hand.

  “Of course. This is my partner in crime, Calista,” he said. “Calista, this is… well, I’m very sorry, but I don’t know your name.”

  “Very well, Caprius Seaton. If you must know, or rather if you should try to remember, I am Cynthia Davenport.”

  Caprius thought for a moment. “Oh, my god. Little Cynthia Davenport. From high school?” he said astonished.

  “Yes, well, not so little any more, as you can see,” she chuckled.

  “Yes, and quite beautiful,” he said.

  Calista shot Caprius a look. “Now that we’re acquainted, Cynthia, you say you’re on a mission?” she asked, turning to her.

  “Yes, do tell us more about this,” said Caprius.

  “Of course, but I have to make it quick.” She plucked a chair from the neighboring table and sat down. “I’m on a case, which I’m calling the Colburn Affair. A man named Cyril Colburn is in the process of manufacturing a drug to enhance animal intelligence. It also builds strength and stamina. He uses this drug to inject creatures, such as Droges, to give them super strength and hyper-intelligent thinking. If you thought Droges were already dangerous, you wouldn’t want to encounter a super Droge. Anyway, if this drug gets into the hands of the vampires, they’ll create an army of them. We have enough trouble with the undead as it is.”

  “This sounds important,” said Calista.

  “Yes, very,” said Caprius. “If this serum gets out, we will definitely have more trouble than we thought.”

  “What’s Colburn’s ultimate goal in doing this?” asked Calista.

  Cynthia shook her head. “Money. Colburn has arranged a meeting with Alamptria’s biggest scums. The highest bidd
er gets the drug. I just have to wonder what will happen if the drug gets into another set of wrong hands.”

  “I hope you can stop this from happening,” said Caprius.

  Cynthia rose from the table. “It’s been great seeing you, but I must go quickly,” she said.

  “Where are you going?” asked Calista.

  “North. Just past Quanta-paloose,” she said.

  “But… that would lead you back to Quantum Heights,” said Caprius.

  “Yes, it’s near there,” Cynthia said, shouldering her bag. “I have to dash off. Calista, it was very nice meeting you.”

  “Nice to see you again, Cynthia,” said Caprius, his eyes a bit wide at this new version of the gawky young girl he’d grown up with.

  “Perhaps, we’ll meet again,” said Cynthia before turning and leaving the pub.

  Caprius waited another interminable amount of time until the waiter waddled over and gave them their check. Caprius counted out the coins and put them on the waiter’s tray. The waiter looked at them, frowned, and shook his head. “Was the service not to your liking, Sir? Did the food not meet your exacting standards?”

  “Caprius, just tip him so we can get out of here,” hissed Calista.

  After Caprius clinked additional coins on the tray, the waiter brightened measurably. “Thank you, come again. I hope your stay was a quiet one,” he smiled. While he was reaching down to put the money in his satchel, the church bells beside the pub began to chime for the one o’clock hour. Everyone who had been nearly comatose earlier suddenly became animated, shrieking and holding their ears. Even Caprius and Calista covered their ears against the din and bolted from the pub. Outside, the tolling bells were even louder. When they finally stopped, Caprius said, “At least now we know why they like to keep things quiet.”

  “Yes, that would explain it. Remind me never to enter this pub again,” snorted Calista.

  “Because of the food or the church bells?” asked Caprius.

  “Both,” said Calista. Laughing, the two untied their horses and brought them out to the main road. A man was standing in the center of the road, watching them. Caprius and Calista looked at one another as they trotted toward him. When they were close enough, they finally recognized him. It was Vernon Goncool. Caprius shouted. “Now!” and he and Calista dug in their heels and went at full gallop to run him over and kill him. Not budging from his spot, Vernon calmly unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready. Caprius wondered why the man didn’t move, but before he could consider that more fully, he realized something was wrong with his saddle. He was sliding off his horse. The straps had become undone, or, he quickly realized, they’d been cut. Caprius fell off the horse hard onto the ground, directly onto his knee. Calista turned around in her saddle to look at Caprius, but her horse, so spooked by the mishap, bucked and threw her off. She lay on the ground, winded and gasping in searing pain shooting up from her ankle while both their horses galloped away.