Nope.
Only I can beat myself up that much.
And Annie B.
And Paine.
But neither of them are around at the moment.
Just my own dumbass doing stupid shit to myself, be it smacking into mushrooms, tumbling through lichen clumps, or accidentally swallowing purple beetles. After that first day I went out and bought some BMX gear, including a helmet. Good thing the nearest Black Elf village was six hours away; I made some noise, even knocked over a mushroom one time.
To be fair, geomancers ain’t exactly known for moving fast. Aeromancer in the Aero Realm—whatever it looks like—probably actually could do the whole Superman thing and Up, Up and Away. But I wasn’t as hopeless as others either . . . how would T-Bone speedily travel with electro-anima for example? Make himself some superconductive magnet shit? At least I was working with simple physics. Simple physics pushed up against complicated, staggering amounts of anima.
I wanted to push at first. Push myself forward. Go big or go home. All that does is give you a sore ass-cheek at the end of the day, even with BMX gear. Took me a few days to come to the conclusion that pushing was out and to try to make my ‘surfboard’. Or snowboard, or sandboard, pick your board, but mine was made of geo-anima laced hardened dirt. Dirt was the key . . . sand might work too, but I’d yet to visit the desert part of the Geo Realm.
I’m sure it’s just lovely this time of year.
After I had the dirtboard, I gave up pushing for pulling. Throwing geo-anima at my feet, anchoring in the ground, and sliding forward. It works, believe it or not. More Geo Cross Country Skiing than the final product, but it was progress. At the one week mark I managed to race T-Bone to Visalia—him with a car on Earth, me in the Geo Realm—and lose, but it only took me two hours and I wasn’t winded by the end of it. In addition to the massive amounts of anima in the Realms, using it never seemed to tire me out.
I’m a fucking god here, I thought more than once.
Those thoughts worried me.
Bad thoughts to have.
Divine kind of thoughts that end up with you breeding humans so they taste good or having hundreds of shells to slide into like they’re nothing but the newest summer fashion line.
If Paine found the Geo Realm, he would conquer it in a month.
So could I . . .
Bringing down civilizations: easy.
Figuring out how to use geo-anima to travel fast: difficult.
Wasn’t until I started thinking small, started thinking about my dirtboard reacting to the dirt underneath it and started thinking about finesse instead of my considerable power that I had a breakthrough. Geo-surfing worked like a gear, a screw, all them simple machines made very small, geo-anima manipulated dirt vibrating to drive my dirtboard forward. Just blasted everything around me at first, but then I started getting even craftier, aiming my anima in a line with my board, foot extra on either side just to be sure. Let those gear vibrations really work up some speed.
Once I had it figured out I could do the Fresno to Visalia trip in twenty minutes, long enough to be sipping on some Dr. Pepper and eating a shitty ShopsMart hot dog by the time T-Bone pulled up in his Tesla.
Only downside is that geo-surfing is loud and geo-surfing gives a trail for anyone to follow you . . . two facts that would piss Poug off. Guess he should’ve been around to babysit me if he didn’t want me disturbing the landscape.
Didn’t have the extra time to waste two hours hiking across the valley, even to pick up Val. Had knowledge to steal. More time in the Guild Vault meant more loot. Maybe it was my temporary godhood making me reckless, don’t know, but I went straight for speed over safety. Not like I was being a total asshole, I didn’t cut right across the valley through some farm or nothing. Went around the valley rim; weaving through mushrooms and stones, having far too much fun as I did so.
If I didn’t have to worry about keeping the dirtboard together and crafted a more permanent version just for geo-surfing, I bet I could get up to forty or even fifty.
Ain’t Superman flight, but it’s damn impressive for a poor, lowly geomancer.
Here I come, Boomworm.
[CLICK]
Val’s apartment building was so British it had an illegitimate bastard with the downstairs maid. Which maid? The cute Irish one. It’s always the cute Irish one who was raised by randy nuns. Gets slapped on that pale ass with a switch growing up and just can’t wait for the master of the house to do the same.
No, she’s not a redhead; no she doesn’t have freckles, why are you trying to ruin the fantasy?
Oh yeah, Val’s apartment building.
British as fuck.
Had stone and brickwork, mostly white. Tons of chimneys on top, unused now but Mancy knows how many chimney sweeps died cleaning them back in the day. I arrived down the block from it, had to cross the street. Cars were on the wrong side. A cop walking by wasn’t shooting random people. CCTV cameras hanging a few places you could pick out. So it was totalitarian, just friendly not-shooting-the-black-people-but-will-send-the-white-people-a-ticket-for-thinking-the-wrong-thoughts totalitarian.
Civilization, it’s a shithole no matter how many oceans or Realms you cross to reach it.
Probably shit in the Geo Realm.
Humanity ever reaches Mars and it will be shit there too.
But this civilization happens to have Valentine Ward living amongst it.
So it’s got that point in its favor.
Once inside the building, I had to take an elevator with a middle-aged British couple who stared at me like I might rob them. So . . . not a whole lot different from the reactions I get in America. Elevator door opened and they stayed inside as I exited.
Someone is getting a wrong-think ticket for being rude to foreigners!
After a minute figuring out how the apartments were numbered, I found the one belonging to Val. Stood in front of that door for another minute. No mirrors nearby, but I was never a sight of refinement. Smelled like dirt, probably had some on my face. Geo-surfing ain’t without its problems and lack of cleanliness is one of them.
Impressions, I never make a good one no matter the number of chances they give me.
Nervous . . . I was fucking nervous.
More nervous than I’d been when we had our little back and forth in the Pit.
If I screwed this up . . .
Val had spared me these feelings by breaking us up, now here I was to prove what a complete fucktard I could be.
Like a kid showing off a school project to your parents. Look what I’ve been up to, Val! Impressed?
Impressions . . . ain’t good at them. Impressing . . . not so bad on occasion, especially when I tried and with Val I always tried.
I knocked on the door twice.
Nothing.
Third time, still nothing.
I gave a glance at the apartment number. Seemed right. Maybe she’s late . . . maybe she’s still working.
Being a geomancer, I did the responsible thing and popped the lock on her door with a blast of geo-anima. Hey, breaking into your ex-girlfriend’s apartment is totally cool and not a stalker move or nothing . . . Twilight can’t be wrong about this shit.
Smith made us read it as punishment in our Languages class.
Yes, punk band and liberal with booze or not, he’s an evil fucking necromancer after all.
Val’s apartment was so British it married its cousin to keep the crown in the family.
Was one room more or less. Nice room, don’t get me wrong, had some space to it, but it was one room . . . and no kickstand in sight. Kitchen to your right as you entered and then living room and den all-in-one. Tiny little TV, couch, table. Reminded me of Ceinwyn’s place with its functionality but lifelessness. There was a rack of Blu-Rays by the TV, fantasy and romance shit . . . that fit with Val’s usual. Opening the fridge revealed discarded takeout food. Evidence growing. Pantry contained salsas, hot-sauce, and a tub of sriracha so large I wasn’t even aware they
made it in that size. About as much confirmation as I need that a pyromancer lives here.
There was a stairway that went up over the kitchen, not to a room, since there was only the one, but a bed just sitting there by itself. A picture of Val with her parents and Christmas was one of two objects by the bedside. Not one of me? My fee fees are hurt. Shouldn’t have been. Second item was the glass sculpture of a fire dancer I’d made back during Bi. Won me a date to the Winter Ball, didn’t you? Took its presence as a good sign. Never was good at saying the words . . . even then.
Still no Val in sight, so I went to the bathroom—its own room to the left of the entrance—and did bathroom things.
Mostly I took a shit.
What?
She did it in my bathroom plenty of times.
Valentine Ward is an awesome chick, but she shits just like the rest of us.
We all shit, everyday, until we shit the bucket.
NASA probably sent some Bach or some Mozart to the aliens they’re trying to find, should’ve just taped some video of a bunch of humans shitting . . . would’ve given a much more accurate representation of our species.
After I flushed a respectable was-once-English-breakfast turd down the toilet and washed my hands—I’m a romantic stalker, but also a respectable romantic stalker—I heard the door to the apartment open.
Game time.
For once, my expectations could never live up to the reality.
Sappy? Yes. But I’m allowed to be sappy occasionally.
After six months of nothing but planning and even more work to make said planning reality, even before that, after the Ouroboros and all that shit? I’m allowed some sappy.
So fuck off, you’re getting the occasional sappy, and you’re gonna like it or I’m turning this fucking car around!
Val leaned back against her door, eyes closed. Same work dress as earlier in the day, purse in one hand, a bigger bag filled with papers and even more work in the other. Saving the world ain’t easy, even when you’re just fighting bureaucracy to do it.
I’ve been trying to save the world for almost three years now and I haven’t done a lick of it. Saved some people, but not the world. Unlike with others, Val has saved me a whole lot more than I’ve saved her. Not just my life, made me try to be better than my first instincts too.
I’ll never be an angel or even a choir boy and especially not a hero, but Val’s part of the reason I’m not some beast of a monster doesn’t care about what gets in his way, eyes only on the goal, the need to know and vanquish. Never wonder why Paine’s so fucked up, cuz I get that side of him. Only . . . the love of his life dropped a boulder on his head. Val did that to me, I’d probably start my own doomsday cult too.
In a few days I had a feeling I’d need to come clean to Ceinwyn about Paine. Had another feeling I’d be coming clean to Val about it too, even sooner. Made me stand in the bathroom doorway for a second longer, just watching her collect herself from a hard day fighting the Guild on my behalf. Told her to leave it alone, but that didn’t stop her. Just wants me safe, I guess. Must mean she still cared. Ain’t caring that’s the problem, Price, it’s duty. You know, that thing you’ve never respected?
“You look like you could use a drink,” I finally announced my presence.
Val flinched against the wall. Her face snapped my way, eyes-without-irises taking me in.
Gave an I-don’t-give-a-crap shrug while trying not to look too guilty. I’m always guilty, but this time I was really fucking guilty. “Told you I’d come by for a visit.”
She was spooked. Part of her was smart and sharp enough to start putting the pieces together, but even Val has her first instincts and those instincts knew I was locked up in an inescapable prison. I couldn’t be here in her apartment, even if I’d made some outlandish winking promises that she should go home early tonight. She knew I was up to something . . . just not this. This was impossible. Everyone says it’s impossible. Isabel did it, it was impossible then, and they had only tightened up security since.
That should make it more impossible.
There’s no way that King Henry can be in my apartment, I saw the thoughts in her expression. Even he couldn’t . . . even we couldn’t do it together, right?
I approached her slowly, grin maybe not my usual canine dare but just a little smug. Surprising Val ain’t so easy and I enjoy it when I manage. Especially when I surprise her by being smart instead of by proving what a dumbass I can be.
Little did I know that breaking out of the Pit was me being smart, but surprising Valentine Ward like this . . . totally a dumbass moment.
I realized this about half a second after she reached out to grip one of my arms, all so she could get enough leverage to swing me around and slam me back against the door she’d just been occupying. The toss itself wasn’t too bad, neither was her smashing an elbow into my chest to keep me pinned, but her pointing a finger right between my eyes . . . that was worrying.
“Val? It’s me.”
“Bullshit,” she whispered.
“Usually very much . . . not this time.”
“Prove you’re King Henry or we’ll see if you can regenerate from a single cell, Isabel,” Val whispered, the threat more in her eyes than her voice. The star in them blazed with some witch hunter zeal and just a tiny bit of fear.
I wasn’t the only one Soto Crazy had abused with that particular bit of duplicity. Dumbass alright! Especially after hearing all about the Ouroboros, Val’s mind would fly towards Isabel faceshifted into me over King Henry actually doing what I had just done.
“Ease off on the finger, will ya? I don’t want to go out to a Fireball of Doom,” I tried.
Her expression twitched, unsure. “Do better than that.”
Our eyes met. I love you. Nope . . . King Henry Price would never say that. She’d burn my ass to ashes in a second. “Ran into Poug yesterday, he’d like to see ya again.”
A breath escaped from Val as she pushed back away from me. Her finger dropped, but her eyes didn’t stop working. Or the brain behind them. Val ticked off the facts, the evidence. King Henry in the Pit. King Henry here. Everything I’d said earlier and now mentioning Poug. “You went back?” she whispered in disbelief.
“Lots of times over the last few months,” I admitted as I reached into my geomancer’s coat to pull out the World-Breaker. “Finally started to use it.”
“Did you talk to the dragon?”
“Do I look stupid?” I asked.
“You’re using a World-Breaker to escape the Pit, so . . . yes.”
I didn’t hold back any of the canine this time. “Admit it; you’re a little bit impressed.”
She returned it all with a perfect Boomworm smirk. “A little bit with you, like always.”
“And you’re jealous.”
“That’s stretching it . . . worried, I’m definitely worried. And tired. And hungry,” she muttered before leaving me standing there as she scrounged for food. No idea where the Flaming Hot Cheeto bag was hiding when I looked through her cupboard or where she got it from in London, but she popped open the bag and took a few bites to give herself more time to think.
I walked over and put the World-Breaker on the counter beside her, meeting her eyes again.
“How I wish this was you just trying to impress your way into my pants again, but it isn’t, is it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Although . . .”
“We’ve had this discussion,” she reminded me, “in the Pit.”
“Fine . . . doesn’t have to be either-or though, does it?”
She threw a chip at me. Never been very nimble, so it bounced off my forehead. Helped that she was so tall she could toss it straight across at me and not up. So tall, near six foot, might not have Ceinwyn Dale legs but those are nice legs, and the rest of her, well—
Another chip bounced off my forehead. “Quit thinking about my ass and start explaining yourself.”
“Wasn’t thinking about your ass so much as
how much nicer a week in a London apartment must be than a week in a London hotel room.”
“No room service,” she pointed out.
“No interruptions,” I pointed back.
“Except the part where you’ll be a wanted fugitive and my disappearance will be slightly suspicious.”
“Okay, you’ve convinced me, I’ll pay for a hotel again.”
“You’re such a prick,” Val grumbled as she tossed the half-eaten bag of chips back in her cupboard. “You’re going to make me guess.”
“Continues on me being impressive that way,” I admitted gleefully.
Sizing me up, Val’s gaze ended on the World-Breaker. “Is there something in the Geo Realm that’s around the area where the Guild sits in our world?”
“Just a quiet, little, mountain valley with a few farms.”
“So it’s not about going there,” Val reasoned, “it’s about using it to . . .”
“I think she has it,” I commented as I watched her eyes grow large.
“You’re stealing from the Guild Vault! You’re leaving your room at night and then . . . no one will know. You got yourself arrested, King Henry!”
I preened a little bit. “Sounds about right. More than a little bit impressed now?”
“Let me just rip my clothes off and take you right on the kitchen floor,” Val blasted me with massive levels of sarcasm.
“We don’t have time for that right now. Sadly I’ve got this whole mission before sex thing going on the last six months and . . . well, that would take a couple hours, so . . . we’ll have to wait.”
“We?”
I picked up the World-Breaker. “The Boomworm I know would never pass up the opportunity to do something like this with me. She still in there, or has responsibility buried her under paperwork?”
The flash in Val’s dark eyes was all the answer I needed, so I reached out to pull her towards me. “No dirt pit this time?” she asked.
“Don’t need the dragon to help either, just me and you,” I said.
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 19
