Not many buildings over a couple stories tall. Old brick and wood still in use, that bland colorless stucco shit corporations buy in bulk in short supply. Could see touches of it, the occasional mega-store sucking in the cogs like flies to cowpies, but for the most part . . . felt like a place out of time and out of season. Peak of the summer and yet it was still pretty green, pretty cool as far as temperatures go.
Sure, after a day of travel it was damn near close to the sun quitting for the day, but shouldn’t have been that nice out. Maybe even cooler than the Asylum was at that hour, up in its mountain hermitage or not. Blame that big ocean sitting right off shore, a waiting expanse of possibility.
Eureka, just a small little town, still got a lumber yard, still got an undeveloped oceanfront for yards and miles at a time. Forgotten hamlet, piece of yesteryear. Missed all the battles came before, but wasn’t gonna miss this one.
[CLICK]
“Speak,” Paine ordered as the ringing of the phone stopped.
My heart stopped beating too, Paine’s voice doing the trick. Couldn’t let him know that. Was the Bluff Game again. Bit more fun than the Leverage Game at least. Had to put on a front, had to be the one threw him off, the one to make the Broken One rage all day, distract his focus when it should be on everything but me. On me and not the World-Breaker in my hand as it crossed possession between us.
Easy enough to do.
Hard though, to not follow him in the same distraction.
Thought I’d found some center yesterday. Thought my night with Val beside me in bed might have soothed the beast. Tempered that hate. That overwhelming hate. Stab a man ten-thousand times kind of hate. Kill his offspring. Salt the city he dwelt in. Old Testament type shit has that Vengeful God covering his eyes and asking, “A bit too hardcore there, maybe? Simmer down now, okay?”
Just that one word did it.
Just the voice.
Obadiah Paine exists.
Obadiah Paine has you in chains.
Still.
One more day on this Earth where you got to do everything he wants of you.
Until you can get Big Sis away from him.
Until you can trick him.
Then . . .
Even then I’m just hoping to get away, with all me and mine still standing.
But one day . . .
One day I’d accept the consequence of that hate. Carry out my basest desires when it came to Obadiah Paine. Ain’t a hero. Ain’t never claimed to be one. What I do to Paine on that day will make what happened to the Brightsword Clan look measured. One day, one of us had to die. For him, maybe that day was today. His coup de grace. His finishing move for the one, two, three. Or maybe not. Maybe death was too quick. Maybe all us limping away wounded and weakened was something he needed even more.
Still in that fog of war and it just ain’t the movements of the opposing army that frustrates you, it’s that army’s intentions.
All that fog, all that movement, and here we were on the day of battle.
First shot right here, over a phone.
Scouting out the size and scope of our enemy.
Pretending to be larger and bigger and stronger.
King Henry Price knows a lot about fighting, but battling . . . that was something new.
Something the world hadn’t seen much in these last hundred years of peace. Peace both Obadiah Paine and I agree has only been bought with chains.
Even though Paine couldn’t see me all them miles away, I forced one of my canine grins. Just so I could feel them sharp teeth in the open air. Just so I could run my tongue along them, drive that sensitive flesh against unyielding enamel. I’d bite my own lip to taste blood, but that might be a bit far even for me.
Besides, had a feeling there would be plenty of blood by tonight.
No matter how good I do my job right now.
Razor’s edge, ain’t it?
Need him distracted, need him angry, but too angry and the odds of him just straight up killing me flies out of the realm of possibility up to complete certainty. Spent my whole life smacking bullies around. Doing everything I could, saying everything I could to make them strike first. Why I ended up being so good at Massey Baiting this last six months. But taking the bully to the moment just before he throws down and keeping him there? As Prunella would say: That’s Hard Mode with No Konami Code, Boss.
“That any way to greet your best friend a good morning and a lovely day in the neighborhood, Obadiah?” I asked him, false sincerity so thick it dripped thicker than blood ever could’ve.
“Little dog,” Paine whispered, voice as intense as always. Heard him shifting from wherever he’d been lying down. Could imagine his whole body tensing. Could imagine a lot. Could wonder even more. Is he sleeping alone? Or was Catherine beside him? Maybe Isabel? Both? What does the Curator wear to bed? Must take off most his artifacts, but what about that metal arm and leg? Door locked and booby trapped?
Could just about imagine him with two stumps right now, skin all pulled tight on the nub. Could imagine the everyday morning ritual of the Curator, glancing down at those wounds, building his will to tackle the day, his need to make all of us bleed in retribution for maiming him and marking him outcast.
“The one and only, yap, fucking yap.”
Felt him on the other end, our connection something deeper than space or time, all those miles of separation between me in Fresno and him in Dread Fortress Paine or not. “You have cut my commands of you very close to the tipping point. In the last hours I began to reconsider your motivations. I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you had finally freed yourself from their chains. But no, of course not. Struggle though you may, you are still their slave. Here you are, late but as expected. No need for me to stop dear Susan’s anima donations in preparation for your punishment.”
Good thing that RV I was sitting in didn’t belong to me. If it did, I might have broke the table just to make myself feel better. Not much longer, Suze, few more hours. “I’d apologize for running out the clock, but we both know I’d be full of shit.”
“And what was done with all that stolen time?” Paine mocked, once again sure of his complete superiority. “Did you gather your last desperate hope together? How many fools did you manage to wrangle, little dog? Is she there with you now? Does she listen in? Can she hear my voice? Finally, after all this time does she know?”
Of course that’s where his interest would head, even more than information about the World-Breaker. High school drama shit, even from the Curator. “Just you and me for now, Obadiah. Rest of mine are sleeping in, but they’re ready to back me up plenty if you don’t keep your side of our bargain.”
“Did you finally tell her, little dog?” he repeated, almost desperate with need.
Not the distraction I was aiming for, but might help. “Yeah, I told her.”
“Ahh . . . good. Very good. As much joy as I would take at seeing the realization in her eyes later today, it is better to know she has spent these last days in fear, overwhelmed with the knowledge she must face her past, face what her actions have wrought on me and our world.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Obadiah. Did drop a mountain on you the last time. Keep provoking her, she might just straight up cut your other arm and leg off with some tornado shit this go around.”
Don’t think he even considered it possible, all Paine wanted to know was if blood was already in the water. “How did she react?”
Told the truth, cuz it would hurt him more. “She hugged me.”
“What?”
“Surprised me too. Cared more about the fact I was still alive after fighting you than that you were hiding out all these years. How ‘bout them frosted mini-wheats?”
Fuck if that didn’t hurt him. Could feel it in that silence, a blow struck through kindness, not hate or rage or fury like the both of us wielded against the other so mercilessly. Shit, maybe I have Vicky take him on with some Care-bear lasers after all. Power of love conquering evil
! Nah, that shit only works in storybooks. Only really bad storybooks too, lying to all the kiddies out there. Here in the real world . . . well, wouldn’t mind me another mountain to drop on him. Or a couple volcanoes. “Still there, Obadiah?”
“Enough of her and her weakness,” he growled. “Enough of your pathetic attempts at extending your life. No matter how many allies you call, your life is mine and we both know it. So . . . to business. What of the artifact?”
Even knowing I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help myself. Especially with the way I had him on the run. Can’t help myself, Poug, minute I see a way towards victory I just run right after it, even if I should know better. Even if me and mine get bloody in that final charge. “Oh, I’ve always had it on me. Most difficult part was finding a way back to Fresno didn’t see me caught by some Guild functionary or ESLED. Don’t have any pointers for being on the run and hiding your identity, do you, Obadiah?”
“What?”
“Did I stutter?”
“You’re lying!”
“It’s a World-Breaker, Obadiah. You don’t just stash it under some pillow. You keep it on you at all times.”
“That’s . . . not possible.”
“I mean, okay, I don’t take it to the shitter. Not always at least, sometimes you’re at a Taco Bell and you just can’t help—”
“Lies! Lies! Lies learned at her feet!” he spit into the receiver, furious. “I would have felt it in that cell! It would have blazed before my sight as it blazed when you used it against me in Tacoma! I would know . . . it would know me, know I’m more worthy than you.”
“Pain in the ass to bundle about, I must admit. Rod that size, well . . . have to customize a pocket just for it and then you have to know a thing or two about fabric and how to fold it over so the object in question ain’t bulging out like some second dick of a phallus on your back, but it can be done. Helps growing up with older sisters, though granted JoJo cared a lot more about accentuating her ass than hiding it. As for Suze, well . . . too busy to do anything more than fix the holes I put in my jeans.”
“Impossible,” he repeated, this time at a whisper.
“Impossible is often possible when it comes to World-Breakers I’ve found. Don’t know about calling it sentient, but don’t claim it staying hidden was all due to my skill with a needle and thread either. So don’t worry, Obadiah. Don’t think of it as me tricking you a second time. Think of it as whoever crafted the thing all them years ago being the one who tricked you. Even you have to admit in all the thousands of years of history some few must have existed who were your equal.”
“Yes,” he seized on that, his ego allowing for nothing less. “A few. Perhaps. Before our enslavement even . . . it must be ancient.”
“Think it’s that old, do you?”
“Your ignorance, as always, is obvious, little dog. I would give to you a history lesson that would astound you, but we have not the time for it and what is the point of teaching history to a man I might kill so very soon?”
Used said ignorance to ignore that taunt.
Focus him on just how gosh darn smart he is.
Fluff, fluff those Paine balls like even Isabel or Catherine can’t.
An Artificer, he needs to hear it from a fellow Artificer.
“Don’t worry, Obadiah, even with that security measure, when you finally see a real World-Breaker, you’ll know it,” I laid some seeds for how I planned to trick him. “All that anima, man, all them chaotic rainbows . . . it’s the stuff of creation itself. Beyond me, for sure. Don’t even think you could do it. Maybe you’re right, maybe that Hiroto Arashi is a fraud. Do know more than you give me credit for, so maybe this thing does come from Atlas. Frankly, I wonder if maybe it’s even impossible for a mancer to craft something this complicated.”
“More proof you lack my greatness if you doubt our abilities,” Paine scoffed. “I will admit that as yet my own experiments with creating World-Breakers have been erratic, far less successful than my experiments into fusing were-anima with mancers. But I assure you, one day soon your Jinshin Ken will not be the only such device in my arsenal.”
There’s a future I never wanted to see. Shit gets that bad at least I’ll already be dead. Shit gets that bad, it’s cuz I probably die tonight. Still, that was tonight, this was scouting, this was Fluff Town. “Can’t see how, Obadiah. Even you ain’t that good,” I cued up a tee-ball for him to smack out of the park.
Smack it he did. “Any artifact I can hold, I can replicate. It is the true mark of a master, a master beyond all those Brothers you have met in court this week. A master freed of convention, of rules, of history itself. A master equal to the man long ago who crafted that World-Breaker you are unworthy of even touching. How long have you had it now and what have you done with it? Nothing! Siphoned anima like a fearful child who thinks thunder is the call of some false god. Yet I do remember our conversation before you dealt with Conan Sapa. I do remember how quickly you hung up the phone when I mentioned that presence we shared in Tacoma. Have you put a face to it, little dog? Have you put a name to it? Thunder might be false, but is there a god that lives still somewhere in the void? Is that why you act the fearful child? Is that what you believe gifted to Elementalists your World-Breaker?”
“Made one deal with him, Obadiah, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Did help me save Christmas from you, but . . . paid the price twice over. When you give me Susan and you take this thing, much as I hate you, have some free advice: don’t deal with dragons.”
“What of the Black Elves?” he asked greedily.
“What the fuck is a Black Elf?” I asked. Just give me the fucking Oscar already.
He laughed, straight up laughed. “Oh, little dog, just when I gain some small respect for you and wonder about keeping you kneeling instead of slaying you, you always prove how unworthy you are of what you have stolen.”
Taunt was old news, but the rest . . . I was a little bit surprised to hear him speak of my future so openly. “Not killing me now, are you?”
“I am yet undecided. My baser instincts crave it, yet unlike you I am not a base creature. If you were the Maximus then yes, I would be forced to. I would . . . inflict such horrible tortures upon you, little dog. To all who stand with you. But, no it must be another. A Maximus cannot be as pathetic as you are. The crown must enlighten, must infuse a person with understanding beyond what you have shown. Muller perhaps, or Pachis. It matters not. When I have the Jinshin Ken I will kill them one after another. The whole Guild if I must, starting with Massey. Even the Crown of the Earth will not be able to stop me. But we are speaking of your life now. King Henry Price, the boy who had the gods in his hands and gave it up for a chain. A living, breathing bag of anima barely better than a mundane. You will defang yourself, you will debase yourself and surrender all your possibility just for a shared womb? If you are so small, so weak, so easily turned away from progress, then why should I even bother making the effort to kill you? But you won’t escape me, don’t let yourself ever hope that, little dog. If you do live after today it will be by taking your sister’s place.
“Creating your own asylum is not without risk and one of many tools required is your own Holding Room. There is an artifact worthy of me, even if it cannot match the greatness of a World-Breaker. So perhaps not death for you, perhaps I will leave you trapped and mundane, where you can witness the future, one of the few completely aware of what comes, what the world will soon wake to.”
“You’re going to overfill the Quota. Bring down the walls.”
“Yes, little dog. A reckoning. A war of the elements. A cleansing of this world. A remaking of existence itself. Once the war is upon us I will lead these slaves, all of them. We will rise up, we will destroy everything about this false world. We will take our place above all the rest, be they elf or giant or vampire. You will see. It is the only sane course.
“Oh, little dog, the day is here! The day we are both destined for! I forgive you for your weakness, I forgive you
for not being able to match my intellect. You tried, you pulled your little trick, you managed to gather your little team. It’s more than most have managed against me. Let these last hours be ones of reflection for you, for your failures, for how insignificant you are when compared against my glory. Cherish those who are with you, who would die for you. But know that if you try any more little tricks . . . all of you will die and you will die last.”
Shit.
I mean.
That’s some serious fucking Crazy right there.
“Not that I ain’t impressed by the quality of your gloating, Obadiah, but you realize you still need to tell me where and when to meet you, right? Just one of those details we have in the real world, not whatever planet of existence you’ve floated on away to.”
“Eureka, little dog, your doom comes to you in Eureka. Before the sun sets you will meet your fate, whichever fate I decide to pick.”
[CLICK]
Eureka.
Just outside of town.
Not before we entered it, but out the opposite side. Was someone still had a slice of humanity standing across from me, I’d think they were playing with my emotions. Make me think about all those innocent people in the crossfire. Kid skipping down to the ice cream shop. Dad buying some wood to build a swing. Mom at the grocery store, picking up hot dogs and buns. That kind of All American in the Heartland shit.
But not Obadiah Paine. And not King Henry Price.
Grown a lot in these last ten years, but I haven’t grown nearly that much.
Not even sure it’s in me, no matter how much time passes on by.
Cared about me.
Cared about the eight people standing beside me.
Cared about Susan.
Care about killing those gonna be standing across from me. Maybe not today, but one of these days.
Didn’t cut out the prep work or the team coming together, but I am cutting out the travel time.
Cut, cut, cut.
Fresno to Eureka ain’t a short trip.
California might be one state, but it ain’t like those Eastern states you traverse in an hour, especially if you going bottom to top. Even middle to top like we were. Take you all day, especially if you’re caravanning with a number of SUVs. With a fight at the end of it, you got to stay grouped up. Can’t get lost. Can’t get separated. Bad enough Vega’s bunch were a good fifteen to twenty minutes behind us, whatever he sent.
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 75
