“Never had chicken,” he said as his eyes gazed at me as if I were the last remaining turkey leg at a holiday feast. “We only get rodents, changed manticores, and tofu down here.”
That made me jolt.
“Tofu?”
“It’s awful,” he said. “Flavorless. Almost as bad as the rice cakes they used to give us.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
“Dragons,” the manticore said with a sneer. “They suck.”
“Couldn’t agree more, my friend.”
It took a step forward and sniffed me. Water filled the beast’s eyes like it’d just taken a hit of heroin.
“I want this to last,” it said as it showed all three rows of teeth to me.
Just as he lunged forward, I sidestepped him and stuck Boomy against his temple.
“All right, lion-boy,” I said in a menacing voice, “I don’t want to have to blow your brains out, but I will.”
“What is that you have on my head?”
“A gun.”
“A what?”
“A gun,” I said again. “It’s a weapon that contains projectiles. If I pull the trigger, the contents of your head will decorate the entire area here.”
Its eyes creased, but it stayed looking forward.
“What do you want?”
“To get to the other side of this level without being eaten.”
“Not possible.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to shoot you,” I stated without inflection.
“The others will still eat you.”
“Yeah, but you won’t,” I pointed out, “and you’ll be dead, too.” He didn’t respond, which let me know that he was weighing things. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. There are three more humanoids chasing me.”
“Three?”
“Three. If you fly me to the other side quickly, you can be back in time to pounce on them before anyone else has a chance.”
“Hmmm.” His eyes glanced in my direction, but his head didn’t move. “How do I know you’re speaking the truth?”
“You don’t, but ask yourself why a human would risk running through the nine levels unless there was something chasing him?”
He nodded. “Valid point.”
“Now, I’m going to climb onto your back and you’re going to fly me over, okay?”
“I will do as you say.”
As I was about to hop on, I looked back and saw that his tail was flaring. He was obviously planning on stabbing me in the back with his vicious spines once I was in place. I couldn’t blame him. Four meals was better than three, after all.
“Now, now,” I said, tapping the gun against his head. “I see your tail and I know your thoughts. If you so much as move those spines in my direction, your life will be forfeit.” As a gesture of proof, I tapped Boomy’s nozzle against his head again. “Are we clear?”
He grunted. “We are.”
“Move out of the way, you idiots,” I heard the voice of Claire calling out. “And keep your damn dicks off of me.”
I fired Boomy up the stairs, allowing the ricochet to hopefully strike something.
This accomplished two things. First was a yelp and some bustling from above. Second was that the manticore’s eyes grew very wide, clearly learning that I was not messing around regarding the power of the weapon I was wielding.
“You heard the humanoids,” I whispered, “and you know what kind of power I have in my hand. So what’s it going to be? Are you flying me over there or am I blowing your head off?”
It sniffed the air in the direction of the stairs. “Smells like balls up there.”
“Not surprising.”
The manticore glanced sideways at Boomy and sighed.
“Climb on.”
Chapter 20
Of all the things that had happened today, this was the best, and that wasn’t saying much.
Yes, I had to be careful that the damn thing wasn’t going to try and stab me with its tail, but soaring over the rest of the beasties in the feeding frenzy below was far nicer than trying to traverse it on foot. I wouldn’t have made it ten steps, Boomy or not.
Up here, though, I felt like nothing could touch me.
“I have to say that you’ve got it better than all those below you…” I paused. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Jim.”
I was expecting “Gravelor” or “Croseidon” or something like that. Not “Jim.”
“I’m Ian, Jim.”
“Don’t care.”
“Right. Well, anyway, I was saying that you’ve got a pretty decent gig up here, Jim.”
“Glad you think so,” he replied as we turned a sharp corner that revealed another two manticores flying toward us.
“Uh…Jim…who are they?” I asked in an almost casual tone.
“My fellow rulers.”
“That’s not good for you, Jim,” I said.
“For me?”
“Well, you do want to get back to those three humanoids, right? These guys are your competition, no?”
“Shit,” Jim said with a growl. “You’re right. Use your projectile launcher on them.”
“It’s called a gun, Jim.”
“Don’t care. Kill them.”
I had to think about this for a second. If I pulled Boomy away from Jim’s head, he could easily stab me with his tail before I had time to reengage. On the other hand, if the other flying manticores got much closer, they’d rake me off Jim anyway, and probably kill him in the process.
Fortunately, I always carried a spare gun, just in case.
I took it out with my left hand and stuck it on Jim’s opposite temple.
“I have two of these, Jim, so don’t get any ideas.”
“You’d better kill them fast,” Jim said almost desperately.
I fired Boomy and struck the first incoming lion-beast right between the eyes. It dropped like a lead balloon, falling with a splat on the ground below. The feeding frenzy that ensued was horrific.
The second flier hesitated at seeing this, keeping its distance.
“What is this devilry, Jim?” it said while casually flapping its wings.
“He’s my new…friend,” Jim replied.
“We’re friends now?” I whispered with a laugh, thinking it unlikely that Jim and I would ever end up out at a pub throwing back a few beers.
“You know the rules,” the other manticore said. “All food is communal, friends or not.”
“Of course I know, Cleo,” Jim replied with a venomous voice. “With Chelsie out of the way, though, you and I can set new rules. Ones that are befitting of the winged manticores, not the lowly walkers.”
The names that these things had were simply too human. It kind of weirded me out. I’d met a few people over the years who didn’t fit their names, but this was insanity.
“What do you have in mind, Jim?” Cleo asked.
“We shall become one,” Jim replied, maintaining his position. “Our rule will be done with the power of six rows.”
I assumed he meant rows of teeth, seeing as there weren’t any rowboats around.
“You are proposing marriage?”
“Out of convenience only.”
“Yet it still requires copulation,” countered Cleo.
“I am aware,” Jim said back.
Cleo frowned while studying him. She appeared completely baffled by Jim’s suggestion. It was clear there was no love between them.
“But I thought you were only interested in male manticores, Jim?”
Jim’s altitude dropped enough to cause me to constrict my legs around his waist.
“Why does everyone think that?” he asked. “I’m not gay. I just haven’t found the right mate.”
“Until now?” Cleo said, looking dubious.
“I marry for purpose, not love.”
The two continued flapping their wings for a few quiet moments.
I honestly couldn’t care less what ended up happening between the two of the
m. My bigger worry was that the dragons were bound to be coming through any second and then the shit was going to hit the fan. Once they spread the word as to who they truly were, Jim would recognize my ruse and do his damndest to end me, even at the expense of his own life.
“Fine,” Cleo said finally. “We have an arrangement. Now, let us dine on this human together.”
“I think not,” I said, raising Boomy and pointing it at her. “You already saw what I did to your third-wheel manticore. I have no problem making my wedding gift to you be a similar fate.”
“Do not fire at her,” Jim said over his shoulder quietly. “It will only cause two of those below to morph into fliers.”
I glanced down at all the hungry faces.
“What?”
“There must be no fewer than two rulers, though three is preferred,” Jim explained. “If you kill Cleo, two more will rise in her place and we will have another battle to contend with. If Cleo and I marry, then we will supersede the law of three and may rule together without the third manticore.”
“Only if we copulate,” Cleo reminded him.
I felt Jim bristle at the thought. Maybe he was only into dude manticores? Not that I gave a shit one way or the other, but it just went to show that power was more important to him than his personal preferences.
“Let’s go, Jim,” I said, tapping him on the temple with the smaller gun as I kept Boomy trained on his new fiancée. “I need to get to the next level fast.”
He swerved and headed toward the exit, covering the distance quickly as Cleo flew alongside us.
There were only a couple hundred feet left to go when a rumbling sound rippled through the manticores below.
Another ten seconds and I’d be home free.
“What is the bustle of noise?” said Jim as he continued his descent. “Something has the flock worried.”
Five seconds.
“Dragons,” said Cleo.
Three seconds.
“What?”
One second.
“Dragons have entered the area.”
Jim stopped about ten feet above the ground.
“Dragons?” he yelled and then spun his head back at me. “You said they were humans!”
I licked my lips.
“Technically, Jim, I said they were humanoids.”
Jim roared so loud that I nearly dropped Boomy.
“Kill him,” he commanded as I dived off his back an instant before his tail would have struck me.
I hit the ground with a roll and dived into the darkness that led to the stairwell and scrambled down until I passed the halfway point.
“Son of a bitch,” Jim was yelling from the top of the stairs. “I cannot believe I was fooled by that stupid human!”
“Great,” said Cleo. “I’m marrying a moron.”
Chapter 21
I’d made it to the level of greed. This could be a good thing or a bad thing.
I had money on my person, but it was Overworld money. Still, if I could somehow position it as being precious because it wasn’t available for use on this plane, maybe the goblins who ruled this level would let me through without a fuss.
That was the good thing.
The bad thing was that dragons were known for having jewels that goblins drooled over.
I had to get there first.
Fortunately, the flying manticores known as Jim and Cleo were on this side of level three. Now, I knew that dragons can fly too, but there wasn’t enough overhead in any of these circles to allow for creatures that big.
In other words, I had an edge.
Two, actually.
You see, I knew how to deal with goblins. They were greedy, sure, but they also were easily convinced if you showed strong bravado and adopted a New York accent. I’d learned this when Chief Michaels—the guy who ran the Las Vegas PPD when I started there—had me ride with him to take down a small batch of goblins who had somehow escaped the Netherworld a number of years back. I was ready to go in with guns blazing, but Chief Michaels had me put the gun away and showed me how to handle goblins properly.
It was time for that lesson to pay out.
I stepped out into the light and found a bustling group of goblins all working tables, selling stuff to each other, and doing what they do best: haggling.
“Hey, buddy,” I said in my best New Yorker accent to a goblin who was walking by, “come over here.”
He stepped over and scanned me from head to toe.
I scanned him right back.
His face was pointed and wrinkled, laced with creases that surrounded a set of dull, angst-ridden eyes. His ears were pointy and long. All in all, he was what you’d expect a goblin to look like. Except for one thing. He was wearing a suit. A nice one, too. In fact, it was so nice that I nearly asked him who his tailor was, but I caught myself while remembering the situation I was in.
“Nice shoes, pal,” the little guy said, “but you ain’t got on no jacket. You’re unfinished, yeah? Can’t walk around like that in this world or you’ll be eaten alive.” He tsk-tsk’d. “They’ll see you comin’ a mile away, Jack.”
“It’s Ian, not Jack,” I countered, “and I’d argue that it’s the man who makes the suit, not the suit that makes the man.”
“Good argument,” he replied with a satisfied nod. Then he wiped his nose and said, “Whaddya want?”
Here’s where I had to be careful.
He couldn’t know that I had a couple of dragons after me or he’d definitely hold me up and collect a reward. Dragons may be ruthless but, as Claire had pointed out, they would follow the agreed upon rules and precepts they’d set up for their subjects. That meant Claire would be willing to pay for my capture.
“Heading down to level five,” I said, whipping out a twenty. “You’ll get one of these now and three more when we get to the other side, if you lead me there.”
“Human money ain’t worth nothin’ here.”
I stretched the bill between my hands and held it at eye level to him. “It ain’t?”
He swallowed.
“Get me to the other side double-time and I’ll even give ya one of these babies.” I pulled out a fiver and showed it to him. “Can’t find these easy in the Overworld. They’re rare, I tell ya.”
It wasn’t true, of course, but he didn’t know that.
“How rare?” he asked, studying the bill carefully.
“Only a hundred of ‘em in existence.”
His eye twitched.
“I’ve also got a one here,” I said, showing him a green bill with George Washington’s face on it. “It’s the only one you’ll ever find.”
He licked his lips. “Is that why it has the number one on it?”
“You got it, pal,” I replied before tucking all the money back in my wallet. “Obviously you’re no dummy.”
“That’s true.”
“So, whaddya say? We got a deal or what?”
He squinted and rubbed his chin as if he was thoroughly considering things, and this is when I channeled Chief Michaels.
“You know it makes sense, pal. Every second that swings past is a second wasted.” I then stood tall and leaned away from him. “Of course, I could just snag one of these other enterprising—”
“All right, all right,” he said, looking perturbed. “Let’s go. But keep up with me, I don’t want to have to drag you along.” He stopped and spun on me. “And no wise guy moves or I’ll gut ya, see?”
For a guy who only came up to my waist, he was somewhat intimidating. But I met his glare with one of my own.
“A deal’s a deal, pal,” I stated as if it were written in stone. It wasn’t. I was more than happy to kick him in the nards and run like hell, should it come to that. But he didn’t know it. “When a Dex shakes hands on something, it means somethin’.”
With that, the goblin blew his nose into his hand and held it out for a shake.
This was the equivalent of little kids spit-swearing. Ah, yes, that age-honored ritua
l of spitting in your hand, waiting for the other kid to do the same, and then shaking on an agreement. Honestly, it made me wonder how far we’d truly evolved from monkeys. I suppose we didn’t throw shit at each other when irritated. We did worse, but at least there wasn’t shit involved…usually.
I feigned snorting into my own hand and then, with bile building in my throat, shook his.
“What’s your name?” I asked as I proceeded to wipe his snot off on the shoulder of his suit. “Not a fan of doing business with people I don’t know.”
“Renny,” he said. “Renny Pache.”
That was better than the manticores, anyway.
“Good to meet ya, Renny,” I said and then motioned ahead. “Lead on.”
Chapter 22
Of all the levels I’d been to thus far, this one I could get behind. Everybody wanted something out of everybody, sure, but there was an air of complexity to it that was different from the levels above.
These people had a moral code. Not a great one, mind you, but one nonetheless.
They sought the deal, and that meant something.
I doubt they had any compass regarding the classic example of it’s-a-good-deal-if-everyone-comes-out-happy, of course. Hell, I’d bet Renny would sell me out in two-shakes for a better gift, regardless if the purchaser was a dragon or a werewolf. Goblins only cared about the better deal. They’d probably take living over gold, but that’s because it was the best of two choices. If I remembered correctly, they even had a saying that talked about the logic of it. Something about how ten gold and dead means you only get ten gold, but no gold and alive means you could bust your hump and make way more than ten gold. It was basic math. But if death wasn’t on the table, my dollar bills would pale in comparison to what Claire had up her sleeve, and you know damn well she’d have something to trade.
Renny was a fast little dude. I didn’t have any trouble keeping up with him, but since every goblin within sight was wearing a suit that was similar to his, I could see the potential of looking away for a second and then accidentally following the wrong one.
That’s when I saw the smear of snot on his shoulder.
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