Escape The Deep

by S T Branton

  I peeked around the corner in time to see a burst of white light and hear a shout of alarm. Bentham used her magic to pull the young man out from his hiding place.

  “Archimedes.” Her voice was monotone. “I’m Agent Bentham. This is my associate Agent Thrasymachus. We’ve come to ask you a few questions. Please do not resist.”

  The voice was cold and authoritative. There was a pointed take-no-shitness to it which seemed to make it extremely clear that her questions were to be answered truthfully, completely, and immediately.

  Thrash’s voice held none of the control of his partner.

  “I begin at level one, Bentham. Ask before I proceed,” he boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls and bypassing the ear to land directly in the brain, like an anvil being struck by Thor’s hammer.

  “Archimedes, confirm your name,” Bentham stated.

  “Me? I don’t—” Archimedes began before a massive fist came into view, rocking him in the jaw.

  Thrash was a mammoth of a man. He wore a long coat and hat with a pair of sunglasses that slipped down his nose. I made out the cold, blue glow of his eyes above the rim. Thrash’s fist seemed to pulse as he held it up, and he looked back at Bentham.

  “Level two, now. Ask again,” he commanded.

  Ally gasped as the fist grew by at least ten percent. I clasped my hand over her mouth to shush her as Archimedes got whacked again. This time he bounced off the wall behind him, shook his head, and looked Thrash as directly in the eye as his much shorter stature would allow.

  “Damn,” Archimedes said. “Is beating on guys like me the only way you can get hard?”

  Wow. I sincerely hoped this Archimedes guy had more than that going for him.

  Thrash grimaced and looked back at his partner. “I said ask him again, dammit.”

  Bentham stepped forward. She was dressed like Thrash, the long coat and hat covering most of her body and head, but one ear poked out of the hat, and I saw that it was pointed. She pushed her glasses back up and looked down at a notepad in her hands.

  “Archime—” she began as Thrash suddenly hit the man again. “Thrasymachus, you need to at least allow him to respond first.”

  “Why? So he can tell more jokes? Let him tell jokes with no fucking teeth,” Thrasymachus spat.

  Archimedes stood from where he’d crumpled against the wall, seemed to swirl something in his mouth, then spit it out, hitting Thrasymachus in the chest.

  “Only one, you giant prune. Yeah, I’m Archimedes. Now, why don’t you ask your partner here to keep his hands to his damn self?”

  “Level three.” Thrash emphasized each word. His fist grew bigger still, but Archimedes didn’t back down, despite how his eyes kept darting back to it.

  “Archimedes, I am here to get a confession. He doesn’t have to hurt you any more if you are truthful with us. Do you understand?”

  There was almost a hint of compassion in that voice, but it was still emotionally disconnected.

  “Archimedes, we know,” Bentham began, any warmth I might have imagined in her voice now gone completely, replaced by a nearly robotic certainty of purpose. “We know you have been dealing illegal runes. Where are they?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Archimedes looked at Thrash again, stoic resistance in his eyes.

  Thrash grinned. His fist came around with terrifying speed, and Archimedes slammed against the wall. Before he could slide down it, Thrash grabbed him with his other hand, which had now grown to equal his hitting fist, and kept him upright.

  “I can do this all night, Archimedes. In fact, I want to do this all night,” Thrash sneered.

  “Archimedes,” Bentham interjected, “the runes. Where are they?”

  “Please,” Archimedes began, his voice different, some of the bravado gone and replaced with defeat. I knew that tone quite well. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ally tugged on my elbow, and I turned to her. She was pointing at Archimedes, and then the back of her pants. It took a second to understand what she was trying to tell me. Archimedes was using one hand to fiddle with something behind him. It looked like a pouch, tied to his belt, and two of his fingers were now inside it.

  “Level ten,” Thrash said.

  Bentham looked up at him, and her demeanor changed.

  “That is not necessary,” she said, but Thrash’s hands had already grown impossibly large.

  I knew that trick, but only in passing. Thrash was an atomizer, able to use magic to contort his body in a hundred different ways. It wasn’t the most elegant use of magic, but it seemed damned effective.

  “Level ten. Where are the runes, Archimedes?”

  “Up your ass.” Archimedes’ hand whipped out from behind him.

  A red stone flew in the air and landed directly between Thrash and Bentham. It exploded in light and sound and Ally muffled a scream. Thankfully, the sound covered it up, and when my vision returned all the way, Archimedes was running toward where we were, and Bentham was struggling to regain her feet. Thrash was a few feet away, laying on his back and holding his head with a massive hand.

  “Archimedes,” she shouted, and a burst of a blinding white beam came from her hand.

  The magic lassoed Archimedes’s legs, and he fell directly in front of the pallet tower, yelping in pain. Our eyes met through the slats for a moment before Thrash was suddenly on top of him. He reached down and pulled the bag off his belt, easily snapping the rope that kept it tied. He tossed it to Bentham, who caught it with her free hand. Her aethermancy magic was still holding Archimedes down, and Thrash took the opportunity to smash one of his heavy fists into the prone man on the ground.

  I suddenly felt like my body had locked up. Thrash sent another fist down and my vision grew blurry. I tried to shake it off, but instead of Archimedes and Thrash in front of me, all I saw was my father, being held by those goons who kept hitting him and saying such awful things.

  Just like that night, I acted without thinking. This time, I was prepared. I met eyes with Ally, putting my finger over my mouth to tell her to stay quiet. Then I rolled out from behind the pallet and ran toward them.

  Thrash’s head snapped up as he heard the sound, and as he turned toward me, I buried my fist in the most vulnerable part of his stomach. My locket was at full charge, and he crumpled to his knees, his fists deflating to normal size. I kicked his face as hard as I could, knocking him onto his back.

  “You?”

  I turned to look at Bentham, her eyes full of recognition, and maybe fear.

  “Me.”

  She wasted no time. Bentham pushed her hands forward and whipped a beam of energy at me. I ducked it and ran in for a close-up, but she was prepared for that. She blocked my kick and responded with a punch to my temple. Even with the locket absorbing some of the attack, I felt a jolt of electricity running through her hands. Aethermancers used that energy to do serious damage, and although I barely got caught at all, it felt like I had a wet hand stuck in an electrical socket. I caught the scent of ozone, and my body felt jittery for a moment. But I had the presence of mind to spin out of the way as she aimed her magic at me full blast.

  A large pillar rose in front of me and I leapt toward it, using my legs to run up and backflip behind her. As she turned, I charged her and pushed her against the wall, face-first. A shot to the ribs seemed to affect her, but a now recovered and furious Thrasymachus suddenly grabbed me from behind and tossed me a dozen feet.

  Thrash reached his arm back and then swung it forward at me like he was throwing a heavy ball. His arm extended, and his fist took the shape of a hammer. I rolled out of the way, and it crashed into the ground. I crawled backward and avoided another blast of energy from Bentham, this one not trying to lasso me as much as impale me. She was closer now, and I knew that using too many blasts like that was wearing her energy out, but she wouldn’t need much. One strong shot, if it caught me full, would easily end my night if it didn’t dire
ctly end my life.

  That’s when I saw the sack of runes.

  I dove forward and grabbed the bag as I rolled to my feet. After pulling out a marble-shaped rune, I held it high.

  Bentham stopped in her tracks and Thrasymachus yelled in frustration. We were in a standoff, and I had no idea what to do next. I didn’t have long to form a plan.

  Damn it, and now I want tacos even more.

  Ally let out her version of a war cry as she came up behind Thrash and swung a lead pipe at his head like she was aiming to win the World Series. The pipe bent at a hard angle, but he didn’t move. Bentham barely reacted, only shifted her eyes momentarily to assess the situation, then settled back on me. Thrash stood stock-still before reaching up with one hand and removing the bent pipe from his head. Achingly slowly, he turned toward Ally, who was now backing up, her eyes as big as saucers. She didn’t yet understand that with creatures like this, it was all about the element of surprise and finding the soft spots.

  “Bentham, think fast,” I shouted and tossed the bag in the air.

  She reached for it as I threw the marble-looking rune in my hand at Thrash. When it hit the ground, a sound like high-pitched wailing filled the room and everyone went to a knee, covering their ears. It seemed to affect Bentham and Thrash the most, and I used the opportunity to run full-tilt at Thrash and dropkick him in the face. His head smacked against the wall, and he went down all the way.

  I reached behind me for my blade, but before I could get it out of my pocket, an explosion of smoke filled the room. I scrambled backward until my back was against the pallets and felt around for Ally. I pulled her close to me, and she buried herself in my back. Whatever wanted to get to my friend would have to go through me, as soon as I could see again.

  The smoke slowly cleared, and I heard Archimedes coughing. Thrash’s hulking figure and the smaller yet more intimidating figure of Bentham were gone. She must have used one of the runes to beat a hasty retreat. I stood, tentatively looking around to see if they had hidden somewhere. Once satisfied that they’d left, I turned to Ally. She had the bent pipe again and was twirling it around like she was ready to swing and was standing mere feet from Archimedes.

  I put up a hand to stop her and knelt on one knee, coming closer to eye level with him as he struggled to a sitting position. The intensity of his pain was obvious as I extended my hand to him.

  “Let’s try this again. I’m Sara Slick.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  His face going completely white told me Archimedes had heard my name before. Not only had he heard it, but he was one of those who either didn’t believe I existed and was only a legend, created to spook Farling children, or was terrified of me and what I could do. Either one was good with me. I was getting used to the power my name had and was enjoying it. It was considerably better than the mocking laughter that had often come from the other inmates and the guards.

  “Sara Slick?” he repeated.

  All the blood draining from his face made his shock of red hair even bolder as it hung a little too long over his forehead.

  “Yep, that’s me. Have been my entire life. Well, Sara Slickerman, but I prefer to leave out the whole ‘—erman’ part.”

  “I can understand that,” he said.

  My eyes narrowed at him.

  “Yeah, coming from a dude called Archimedes,” I snapped.

  “Fair enough,” he responded.

  “This is a really heartwarming interaction and I appreciate all the love going on here, but do we have to stay in this particular spot?” Ally asked.

  She didn’t sound like she was relishing hanging out in the warehouse.

  “Something wrong?” Archimedes asked.

  He looked over at her like he couldn’t possibly imagine what might be bothering her.

  “I haven’t been part of this whole thing for long.” Her hand swirled around in front of us like she was trying to encompass both of us and the circumstances she’d found herself in since discovering me again. “But something I have learned is that these issues aren’t isolated. When serious shit goes down, it’s safe to bet it will happen again. I’d rather not be here when it does.”

  “She’s right. We should go somewhere we can talk.” We started out of the warehouse, and I gestured between the two of them. “Archimedes, Ally. Ally, Archimedes.”

  “Can I call you Archie?”

  “Why would you do that?” he asked.

  She looked at him strangely.

  “Because…it’s shorter than Archimedes?” She wasn’t sure what he was asking or why.

  “Why does that matter?” he pushed.

  “Just go with it, Ally,” I said.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m not calling this man Archimedes. That’s a fluffy bird in a cartoon about King Arthur. I’m calling him Archie.”

  I sighed and glanced over at Archimedes.

  “Her full name is Alejandra,” I offered. “In case you want to throw some of that back at her.”

  He thought about it for a second, then shook his head.

  “No. I like Ally. Or I could call you Al, if you prefer.”

  Well, this will be fun.

  I led the two out of the warehouse and made our way back to Ally’s car.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  I considered bringing them back to my place, but since my place was a damp, abandoned hotel without electricity, although it was the big time for me, I couldn’t imagine it would be terribly impressive to either Ally or Archimedes. Besides, I didn’t want Ally to know I’d rejected her offer of me staying at her home to commit a felony.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. At least it was honest.

  “I know a place,” Ally offered.

  Archimedes and I had a standoff at the door to the passenger seat. I glared at him as I grabbed the handle.

  “I’m calling you Archie, too.” I ducked into the seat.

  Archimedes got in behind me, and Ally drove off. She finally stopped, and we climbed out into a small green park. It was empty except for one man sitting on a bench and a young woman pushing a stroller that looked like it could contain about ten babies.

  “Is it safe to talk here?” Ally wanted to know.

  Archimedes took a few steps toward the bench where the man was sitting and stared at him intently. For all I knew, he was scouring the man’s brain and figuring out who he was. That wasn’t a specific magical discipline of which I was familiar, but my education wasn’t exactly structured. I could have missed a lesson or two.

  “It should be fine,” he told her. “But stay vigilant of our surroundings. You don’t know who could be listening.”

  We walked farther across the open green space and sat. Being fully exposed out in the middle of the field made me feel safe. At least this way nobody could sneak up on us without someone noticing.

  “I saw you last night.” I stared unflinchingly at Archie.

  This was not the time to pull punches and tiptoe through the tulips. I wanted to know who the hell this man was and what he had been doing in the warehouse with the Harbingers.

  “Where?” he deflected.

  “At the rave,” I told him. “You were wearing glow sticks on your nipples and sucking on a pacifier. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb with me. I’m not some stupid Guild agent.”

  “Oh,” Ally said. “I was about to be furious you went to your first rave since getting out and didn’t invite me.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her.

  “Yes, I was at the warehouse,” Archie admitted. “I watched your fight. That was an impressive showing.”

  “Thanks for the support. I noticed you didn’t feel compelled to jump in and help or anything,” I pointed out.

  “You seemed to have a good handle on it by yourself. Besides, you might have noticed I’m not exactly in the best of graces with the Guild. I didn’t want to hang around and risk them showing up,” he told me.

  �
�I’m shocked,” I retorted in my least shocked voice. “You seemed to make fast friends with Benny and Thrash back there.”

  “Most of the Philosophers aren't too fond of me,” Archie admitted. “But that's only because of my work.”

  “That has to be one seriously shady side hustle to have them send Thrash after you like that,” I pointed out.

  Archie shrugged.

  “What did you expect? I’m a runes dealer.”

  “Is it safe for me to assume this isn't a multi-level marketing Farside Mary Kay-type situation?” Ally broke in. “He doesn't pull out, like, a pink suitcase full of runes and convince people to buy them, then sell them to others, too?”

  “Not exactly,” the Philosopher said.

  “No,” I told her. “He's on the black market.”

  Archie looked at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes at my blatant recognition of what he was telling us.

  “What I do definitely skirts the Pax Philosophia. Runecraft is a form of magic that is highly regulated by the Guild and creating runes to sell to less than savory characters isn’t appreciated by those who move in my circles, so to speak. I'm not exactly respected by the other Philosophers, but that doesn't stop them from concerning themselves with what I'm doing at all times.”

  “Then why do you do it?” Ally wondered.

  He looked at her incredulously.

  “Because I'm really freaking good at my job. I create powerful, unique runes and I find the right market for them.”

  “So, you're an honest-dishonest businessman,” I stated.

  “Why do you say that?” he challenged.

  “I told you, I saw you here last night. Not only after the fight, but before. That was you handing something off to the Harbingers, wasn't it? You were selling runes to them. That's treason against the Pax. Do you know what they’re planning on doing? Do you know what they've already done?”

  Archie held up his hands to stop me as my voice started creeping up louder.