by Cory Barclay
Geddon turned to Steve with a single raised eyebrow. “What’s your purpose here, again?” he asked, though whether it was intended as an insult or not was anyone’s guess. “I didn’t hear Constantin give you command of a troop . . .”
Steve pursed his lips. “That’s because he didn’t. I have other plans, important—”
“What could be more important than this battle, Steve? The Vagrant Kinship’s very survival is at stake.”
“Winning, Geddy,” Steve said, hands on his hips. “My mission is covert, so you don’t need to worry about it.” He hoped his vague words might piss Geddon off a bit, in return for his barb. Steve knew it was petty, but he also didn’t like or trust Geddon. He’d been backstabbed by the Myth Maker once already. He wasn’t about to spill the beans about his task at hand.
His words had the desired effect. The muscles in Geddon’s neck went taut as he tried to hide his swift anger.
Steve smirked.
None of the four people present said anything for a moment.
When the silence started to feel awkward, Steve said, “Well then . . . two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?”
“What?” Geddon asked, tilting his head.
“Never mind,” Steve said. “Let’s break and get this ball rolling.”
The four parted in opposite directions.
Steve went back inside, to inform his small, “covert” group that it was nearly Go Time.
SCREAMS BROKE STEVE’S concentration. He whipped his head around and gazed out the window, looking down to the ground level outside. Trees stretched into the distance, to the horizon. Every once in a while he’d see canopies or branches shake, a telltale sign someone was moving underneath.
“What the hell was that?” he muttered under his breath. He stood in Annabel’s room, her dark curtains pulled aside. He impatiently tapped his feet.
From behind him, Dale gulped and said, “This is so fucked up. What did you get me into Steve-o?”
“I’m sorry, Fats.”
“I didn’t sign up to the Rebel Alliance to take part in some intergalactic war, man. Is Darth Vader out there?”
Steve suppressed a chuckle. He was feeling giddy, but Dale was right: this was no laughing matter. He knew there was a high probability that by the end of this day, he’d be dead. Oh well, he thought, at least I’m trying to make a difference. I guess.
The first sounds of steel clashing against steel rang into the air. More shouting and screaming followed. Steve felt a chill crawl up his spine. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard.
Scarlet joined Steve at the window, peering out. “Does that mean the main forces found each other?” she asked.
Steve shrugged. “Hell if I know. I can’t see shit through the trees.”
Aiden poked his head between Scarlet and Steve, resting his hands on their shoulders. “I studied our map a bit. We’re on the east side of the house, which means . . . no . . . we don’t have a big force stationed over there. Plus, it would be louder if hundreds of blackguards and rebels suddenly ran into each other.”
Steve could tell the leprechaun was right. At the moment, the shouts and clashes weren’t overbearing. They were infrequent and somewhat random. He said, “The scouting groups must be fighting each other.”
“Is that our cue?” Dale asked.
“We don’t have a cue, Fats.”
“Then how do we know when to go?”
A voice came from behind them. “Once our reserves draw the enemy to themselves and clear a path for you.”
They all spun around to meet the gaze of Constantin Lee. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. The vampire took a step inside, but a short one. He couldn’t allow the sun peeking through the window to hit him.
“You’re awake!” Steve said. “I never thought I’d say it, but thank God. It’s chaos out there.”
“It only looks and sounds chaotic, Steven,” Constantin said. “Everything is going according to plan, at the moment. We are drawing the enemy to the west side of the manor with our scouts. Our main force will join them shortly. Then the real battle will begin.”
“And us?” Steve asked.
“You will take your team and chart a path east, away from the conflict. Give yourselves a wide berth as you head to your destination.”
Steve nodded. It was reassuring to hear the confidence and calmness in Constantin’s voice. At least that made one of them who wasn’t currently losing his shit.
“And our guide?” Steve asked.
“Preparing himself for the . . . adventure.”
Steve scoffed. “Good, because we can’t do it without him.”
“I know that, Steven.” Constantin took one hand away from his chest and tapped his chin.
“What is it, Conny?” Scarlet asked.
Constantin’s eyes flickered to the succubus, then over to Steve. He seemed unsure of himself. Finally, he said, “If things go awry, and your adventure turns into a . . . misadventure . . . I want you to flee. There’s no point in everyone dying if it looks like you’re embarking on a suicide mission.”
The group standing before Constantin said nothing.
“Is that understood, Steven?” Constantin asked. Clearly he considered him the “leader” of this ragtag operation. The vampire added, “Annabel would never forgive me if I sent you off to get yourself killed so carelessly.”
Steve nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment, Constantin. If only Annabel could hear you say it . . . that you care so much about me . . .”
“That’s enough of the antics, Steven.” Constantin shook his head, clearly not amused. “I’ve gathered weapons for you downstairs. Don’t forget them. Your rate of success will drop to dismal levels if you’re—”
“I got it . . . Conny,” Steve said with a wave of his hand.
Constantin frowned. He looked past Steve, to Scarlet. “Make sure you arm yourselves, yes?”
Scarlet’s lips curled. “I will, hun.”
“Don’t let this idiot get you all killed.”
“I won’t, hun.”
“Hey,” Steve said, stepping between them and turning on Constantin. “Don’t you have an army to lead or something?”
Constantin’s cold frown slowly vanished, replaced by a smirk. “Yes, and don’t you have a banshee to save?”
“THE THINGS I DO FOR you, wafer-man,” Lig muttered as he stomped along, his head bobbing. He wore a little backpack that was almost as big as him, apparently in case they had to camp out or something.
The sun reached its zenith and it was a hot day as the group traveled through the woods.
Constantin’s plan must have gone off without a hitch, Steve ventured. It’s quiet in this part of the forest. Eerily quiet.
He kept pace behind Lig, with Aiden, Dale, Scarlet, and Shepherd making up the rest of the group. It was the “O.G. crew,” as Dale had exclaimed before they’d left Manor Lee. The big man had been excited to reunite with everyone. But Steve could tell it was a farce: he was scared shitless and his usual jokes were falling flat.
“I sure hope I get to see Shannon again,” Dale murmured. He swatted a fly away from his face and trudged on, stepping over a fallen branch. His eyes were on the ground.
Steve’s eyes were darting around the forest: between the trees and bushes, under and over the branches. He wanted to keep a continuous line of sight on everything around him.
The further they walked, the denser the forest became and the slower their journey became. He started to lose recognition of where he was, or what direction he was going. He hadn’t been to this part of the woods yet.
But Lig seemed to know where he was going. Despite being a “house” brownie, he was surprisingly capable in the wilderness.
Steve glanced down at the long knife that jumped and slapped against his thigh. He shook his head. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to use that.
“What?” Steve said aloud, realizing Dale had said something within the last thirty secon
ds.
Dale scoffed. “You give me little hope, Steve-o. I said I hope I get to see Shannon again.”
“Oh.” Then, after a moment, “You will, Fats.” Steve didn’t entirely believe himself. Who knew what the future had in store for them?
Lig managed to create a gap between himself and the rest of the group. Even though he had tiny, short legs, he negotiated the bumpy forest floor better than anyone else.
Steve heard shouting from across the forest, echoing through the trees. Even at this distance, the sounds didn’t seem to die down. It was as if the battle was taking place right next to them. Steve hated being in the dark, not knowing how the Vagrants were doing.
But he knew he had to focus on the task at—
Lig abruptly stopped walking and held up a tiny fist. The five travelers halted, bumping into each other as they meandered to a stop. Steve’s eyes followed the tilt of Lig’s head.
First he heard the rustling of branches—and not echoes from afar, but nearby. His stomach tightened into a knot and a wave of adrenaline nearly caused him to stumble.
Then he could hear voices. Two voices, murmuring to each other.
His eyes scanned around. A large tree, its trunk much bigger than those near it, was to his immediate left.
Lig turned his hand around and waved backward, the universal sign for “hide.”
Steve didn’t need to be told twice. Neither did his group. As patchwork as his team was, they knew how to make themselves invisible.
All five of them scurried over to the tree, pushing each other to hide behind it. Ahead, Lig scattered behind a smaller tree—he didn’t need the same diameter to hide as the bigger people.
As the voices grew nearer, Steve poked his head out and squinted. Through tree limbs he could see two people in the distance. They wore black cloaks and black helmets.
Blackguards.
They walked nonchalantly, side by side, speaking to each other in loud voices. It was like they knew no enemies would be around this part of the forest, so they didn’t need to be quiet.
How wrong they were.
With his heart thumping in his ears, Steve put his hand on the hilt of his knife. He unsheathed it, then felt a moment of intense alarm when he saw a shape moving to his right.
Scarlet was walking away from the tree, directly in the path of the blackguards.
“Scar, what the hell are you doing?” Steve whispered harshly.
But it was too late.
When the two blackguards spotted Scarlet, less than twenty paces away, they froze. They bent their knees in a battle stance and drew their spears from over their backs.
“Name yourself!” one of the blackguards shouted. There was a bit of fear in his voice.
Scarlet, however, showed no fear. She smiled and put her hands on her hips. Then she bent one of her knees closer to the other and stuck out her hips. It was quite seductive.
The blackguards stepped closer, until they were parallel with the tree Lig hid behind. Their eyes hadn’t moved from Scarlet.
“Oh, boys, thank goodness you’re here,” she said innocently. Her voice seemed to float across the breeze, like pollen raining on flowers. She sounded different than Steve had ever heard her sound.
For the first time, the blackguards seemed to realize who they conversed with. The woman before them wasn’t a battle-hardened rebel. On the contrary, she was a beautiful woman, curvy and pale, with bright red lips.
And she was alone . . .
The blackguards glanced at each other. Then they straightened their knees and relaxed a bit.
“Who are you?” one of the blackguards demanded, trying to regain a semblance of order in the tense situation.
Scarlet grinned wider. “I’m lost.”
“Are you a Vagrant?” the blackguard asked stupidly. His friend had yet to speak, and seemed entranced at the voluptuous woman before them.
Scarlet shook her head. “I’m looking for Lord Obsidian.”
The blackguard chuckled and took a few more steps forward. They were now about ten paces from Scarlet. If they turned around, they’d see Lig. If they looked right, they’d see a smattering of limbs and body parts sticking out from the sides of a larger tree.
But they couldn’t turn. They were stuck.
“Oh, girl,” the blackguard said casually, “you really are lost. You’re on the complete wrong side of the forest.”
As the guards moved closer, Steve slid around to the other side of the tree, so he was now flanking the blackguards. He gripped his knife tightly in his hand.
“And what are you two strong men doing way out here?” Scarlet asked, trying to prolong the conversation.
The blackguard that hadn’t spoken looked shamefaced. The speaker’s proud expression melted. Then he said, “We’re . . . lost too. We got separated from our scouting group.”
The mute blackguard slung his spear over his shoulder and took another step toward Scarlet—a wider, more aggressive step.
“If you want, we can lead you—hey, Joss, what are you doing?”
The quiet blackguard said, “She’s alone, Terrence,” and closed the gap in a few quick steps.
Scarlet’s eyebrows went high on her forehead. She backpedaled and for the first time seemed legitimately concerned. But she had a good poker face.
As Joss put one of his hands out to grab her, Scarlet slapped the hand away. “Oh, Joss, are you being silly?”
With his pride wounded from rejection, Joss growled. He reached out again, with both hands, aggressively grabbing Scarlet’s arms. His eyes were ablaze with lust.
Scarlet knew a moment of pure panic. She yelped and tried to withdraw from the stronger man’s grip, but he was determined.
“Dammit, Joss, this isn’t the time—”
Steve clenched his jaw and sprinted out from the tree, his knife held high.
Terrence heard the crackle of a leaf breaking underfoot and turned.
“Ahhh!” Steve screamed. All he could see were the wide, white eyes of Terrence peering at him from underneath his black helmet.
Terrence reached back and fumbled with his spear.
Steve lunged and swung his arm around. He stabbed Terrence in the side, where he seemed to have the least amount of protection.
The blackguard grunted and ignored the pain, drawing his spear.
Steve pulled back and thrust again, stabbing him higher in the side. Blood spurted in a small river as he pulled his hand away.
Unable to get the distance to use his spear, Terrence cocked back and punched Steve in the face with his gloved hand.
Steve’s vision went white and he felt his nose crunch. He stumbled back and tripped over his own feet, falling to the ground.
Terrence got a grip on his spear and reeled back.
Then bodies flew at Terrence from all directions.
Something hard struck him in the forehead. His head snapped back as the gold coin landed on the ground. Dazed, his knees knocked together.
Joss awoke from his daze at the sound of the screaming. He tore his hands away from the struggling succubus and spun around to see his comrade getting mobbed.
He yelled, “Terr—grwahhh!” and his hand went to his neck. Coppery blood poured from his mouth and down his chin. He brought his hand away from his neck and saw more blood.
With a terrified expression on his face, Joss turned to Scarlet.
Just in time to watch her plunge the dagger into his neck a second time.
Lig jumped into the fray from behind, slicing his little sword across Terrence’s heel. The blackguard lost his balance and found himself dazed and tumbling backward.
Dale pulled Steve by the collar and slid him away from the blackguard.
Aiden was about to launch another gold coin, then he saw Terrence go down in a heap. He stashed the coin as Shepherd ran past him with a blade in his hand.
Terrence groaned as Shepherd stood over him, straddling his torso.
“Wait!” Steve croaked.
Shepherd jammed his thin blade into the blackguard’s throat and sliced across. Arterial spray splattered him. He turned, his teeth bared, blood spilling down his face and mouth. He looked as crazed and maniacal as a demon.
“We could have interrogated him . . .” Steve muttered. He looked downwind to Scarlet, and saw she had taken care of herself and Joss.
Steve’s head slumped backward and he groaned as it hit the leafy forest floor.
Noticing both blackguards were dead, Lig tightened his fists and marched to Scarlet. “That was reckless, devil-woman!”
Scarlet shrugged, unperturbed. She brushed herself off. “You can always count on men to make the wrong decision.”
Lig scowled.
Dale picked Steve up by the shoulders and righted him on his feet.
Steve wobbled for a moment, then leaned against the big tree. His nose felt broken and pulsed with pain. He tasted blood on his upper lip. “Goddamn,” he muttered to himself, spitting blood away and closing his eyes.
“Come, we must carry on,” Lig said as he stormed past. “There could be more behind.”
“We don’t need to hide the bodies or anything?” Dale asked.
“No time, fats-man. Ah!”
Lig froze in his tracks and held his breath.
Another body appeared through the trees.
Jesus, I didn’t even hear this one! Steve thought, his head pounding as he gripped his knife again.
Lig squealed like pig.
It was a squeal of delight.
Fueda stood in the clearing, a worried look on her face.
The two little brownies ran to each other, embraced, and pecked each other on the lips.
“Aww, cute little buggers,” Aiden murmured.
Fueda pushed her lover to arm’s-length and scanned the bloody battleground. “I heard a commotion and came running as fast as I could,” she told Lig.
“We’re fine, my love,” Lig said, trying to wrap her in a hug again. “I knew you were close, but I didn’t think you were thi—”
Fueda pushed him away once more. She scanned the bloody battleground. When she found Steve leaning against the tree, her eyes lit up. “Ah, wafer-man! You’ve made it!”
Steve’s head hurt too bad to say anything.
