by J. B. Garner
“Come on now, keep up the pace,” Beaks called from the rear. “The less time we’re here, the better, Jack!”
“Don’t rush,” I warned. “You’ve got no idea what kind of magic Aelfie might have laid as a trap.”
Blythe growled, clearly frustrated. “And neither do you, lady. The boss told us that you’re a newbie at all this.” Despite those words, he didn’t prod the Elf, keeping pace with him as we continued to creep forward. “I can’t say that you’re wrong, though.”
Despite his own anxiety, Aelfread lied as glibly as ever. “No, dear Mary isn’t wrong, lads. Would I have been so foolish as to leave something so valuable unguarded?”
We finally stood in the shadow of the smokestack. For something so innocuous with its jolly decoration and the Saginaw stenciled on its side, it stood oppressive in the thick air that evening. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end as the electricity amped up from ‘tingle’ to ‘finger in the socket’. The unnatural presence grew to the point that even Beaks and Blythe were paying attention. Slipping my hand surreptitiously into my bag, my itchy fingers weren’t sure if they should grab the hammer or the notebook and pen.
The big goon grumbled, eyes glancing from side to side. “Fine, fine. Get on with it, Pointy.” He kept one of his mitts stuffed in his jacket but the thing didn’t puff out like Beaks’ coat did, not yet at least. Beaks wasn’t nearly so subtle, whipping a snub-nosed revolver out of his expanding inner pocket.
Despite all that, despite the biting tension in the air, the quiet persisted. Hesitantly, Aelfread walked around to the side of the stack. I could see the sucked-in breath, the tenseness in his normally relaxed spine. He had run out of stalling space and I was fresh out of ideas myself. The gambit would be up any second now so I grabbed the end of my notebook, ready to make a move. What move, I wasn’t quite sure but the murky darkness was giving me an idea.
Kneeling slowly, Aelfread reached out to the structure’s base as his fingers started to weave in a bit of what I assumed was faux-magic.
And still, nothing happened. No, the utter silence lasted right up to the point when Aelfread’s fingers touched the Smokestack. The moment his fingernail scraped red-painted brick, the air all around us exploded with soft popping sounds, a frenzy of bubble-wrap stomping building up to a startling cacophony. Aelfread jerked up, Beaks hopped around in a circle, and Blythe tried to maneuver his girth in an attempt to look in every direction at once.
The empty grass field behind us was now filled with quite an array of figures. Between their startling entrance and the dark of the night, it was hard to catch many specifics but most of them were at least humanoid in general shape. Some of them even looked normal enough, if generally disheveled. Most of them were very odd indeed.
Not just the odd I had already seen, the sort of ‘hey, that’s weird but everyone is pretty enough or close enough to human that I can deal’ odd that Aelfie, Sinclair, or Bunny represented. No, this was closer to Monster Mash odd. In fact, the one thing these Figments had in common was their lack of anything in common. They ran the gamut of sizes from shorter than myself to taller than Aelfread, from lighter than Beaks to bulkier than Blythe. Through their mismatched hobo clothes, I could pick out skin colors that ranged from sickly gray through sewage green and on to crap brown. Some looked like they were melting, some were hairy, some were misshapen, and some were almost human save for some glaringly twisted body part or proportion.
Bizarre or normal, the rag-tag group of homeless guerillas let out a shriek of collective anger and charged in mass. They didn’t have any real weapons, not exactly. They only had some sticks and cast-off bits of cinderblock but that would be enough if they were serious on hurting people. Among the incoherent yells were a few snatches of Truespeech, something about touching the ‘sacred stack’ or something like that. It was like we were foolish archeologists that had tried to nab the golden idol and they were the native tribe with their spears and blowguns.
For a pair of professional thugs, Beaks and Blythe didn’t have the reflexes you’d expect. Maybe they were used to being the trouble instead of being in it. Either way, they were frozen with their stupid mouths hanging open. As for Aelfie, well, he had been ready for something but his first instinct was a bit of pure cowardice, which I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by, as he ducked behind the Smokestack and out of sight from the unwashed horde, gesturing for me to follow.
While that was tempting, it didn’t seem prudent and, blast it all, I just couldn’t leave our hapless handlers to their fate. So, as was usually the case in my life, it came down to me to do something that was brave, bold, and stupid. I whipped out my book, raising my free arm over my head to ward off any incoming rocks or sticks and to let the pages fall open to the piece of cardboard I was using as a bookmark. I only had one runeword ready to go but I was hoping it would help.
I had thought that trying to do this magic thing under stress would be stupidly hard but it really wasn’t. Maybe it was my naturally cool head or maybe I had a gift for this. Either way, it was easy-peasy to focus on the runes. Even though I couldn’t see the golden inscription as I turned the book around and held it up overhead, the runes were already spilling light out of them. The same thoughts from my time under the covers filled my brain, sunlight, warm fires, and white light, but I tried to think harder on them this time, to pour everything in my brain into those concepts.
Yes, it sounds esoteric and frankly a little stupid but when Siofra had said that focus was important, she wasn’t kidding. Instead of the chilling sensation of before, I felt like I had been dunked polar bear style into the Saginaw River at the height of winter, all the heat in my body bunching up at my palm, where my hand was locked around the bottom of the notebook. An intensely itching, burning feeling poured through that hand, leaving my body with a shiver and a faint, full-body throb.
The outward effect was even more dramatic. Whereas before the runeword had let off a steady, warm light, this time it erupted with a blinding beacon of brilliant daylight. For a split-second, the entire field around the smokestack, every person, every inch of pathway, and every blade of grass was lit up perfectly. Even little details, from one fellow’s ragged flannel shirt to the dull glint off the barrel of Beaks’ gun, were highlighted and then there was nothing but blinding light burning my eyes and intense warmth on my face.
Yeah, in retrospect, I really should have closed my eyes ahead of time.
The upside was that I was one-hundred-percent certain that everyone else was as blind as I was at that moment and, if my tingling skin was any indication, had just gotten a free tan.
The downside was twofold. Other than the obvious problem of being blind, the burning sensation in my eyes had broken my concentration on the runes. Despite the intensity of the flash, my eyes were already starting to see blurry shapes beyond the fuzzy blobs of light. Everything would be reset in another few moments.
They would have been if Aelfie hadn’t grabbed me by the arm, thin fingers ice cold to the touch, and started to pull. In urgent Truespeech, he whispered, “Come on, dear Dwarf! We must flee while we can!”
My head ached and my eyes were still on fire but I grit my teeth and nodded, letting him pull me along. Sure, I still didn’t want the Wonder Twins to get pulled apart by the angry mob but survival instincts took over at that point. Everything was still spots and blurs as I did my best not to trip over loose stones, errant roots, or my own skirt. Honestly, I almost tore away from Aelfread’s guiding pull anyway; I had to be holding him back between my bad vision and stumpy legs.
To his credit, when I did hesitate for a second, he stuck with me, his grip only tightening. A moment later and there were two claps of thunder, one the familiar boom of a handgun and the other the arcane rumble of the same magical doo-dad the pair had used on the store and my front door. That got any thoughts of martyrdom completely out of my brain.
“Okay, okay, I’m running!” I managed to spit out and off we went agai
n. Though the sounds of cursing and fighting got quieter, a new sound joined it: footsteps thudding through the grass. Aelfread pulled left and I complied, almost tripping once more over the lip of pavement that signified the Riverwalk proper. Fortunately, I caught myself (thank you, low center of gravity!) but I didn’t need to see to know we were losing ground quickly.
“This isn’t going to work, Aelfie,” I grunted. Through clearing eyes, I was sure I could see shapes coming up ahead on the trail as well and they looked as unfriendly as what was coming from behind. Where the heck was a cop when you needed one? They were supposed to do regular patrols on the Walk after dark!
Aelfread wheezed faintly and skidded to a halt. “Twelve Hells! I thought we had actually made it.”
“Well, we did our best, didn’t we?”
It was a faint comfort but it was all I had. The blurs all around resolved into the same kind of misshapen, badly clothed forms. They had to be the Gobbos; they certainly looked like they were poor enough. As a decent judge of character, I observed that they all looked pretty darn pissed at us.
As the Gobbos formed up in a rough circle around us, I could see only one possible course of action. Dropping the notebook to the ground, I put my hands up and whispered sidelong to Aelfread, “Why don’t we try to tell them the truth?”
Aelfie’s face twisted into a bit of a frown. The idea of coming clean didn’t sit too comfortably with the Elf but he relented, “Very well, Mary, I fear we have no choice.” He mimed my pose, raising his hands as well and putting on his best smile.
The motley crew edged ever closer and I could see now that among the really weird ones, there truly was a distinct similarity in look I could pick out. No matter how bizarre each one looked, their heads were all similarly and exaggeratedly proportioned, always too large and bulbous for the rest of their bodies. I could only guess they were all the same kind of Figment.
Despite that discovery, they seemed no less pleased as they crept up to no more than ten feet away from us. The biggest one, a grey-skinned brute with vestigial horns, craggy teeth, and a physique that any bodybuilder would love to have, spoke up, “We told you knaves” – I am pretty sure he would have meant something nastier in English – “that if you set foot near the Smokestack again, there’d be problems.” His teeth pulled back to show even more uneven teeth like a shark. “And now you had to go and touch it.”
“Hey now,” I cried. “We didn’t know that was something sacred!” Trying to edge more diplomatic, I lowered my voice to simply loud. “Besides, we are only here under duress!”
Aelfie took over, trying to look as sincere as possible. “Indeed, good people! I would never have thought of coming close to your sacred site had I not been forced to by Dragonsong’s blackguards!” Okay, technically that was a lie but it was close enough to pass muster with me. The intent was truthful, at least.
Not that Giant Man seemed to care. “Yeah, an’ I’m the King Under The Lakes!”
Aelfread blinked. “Well, I am truthfully the Prince Under The Lakes, if that would be of any help in this situation.”
That only seemed to piss the lead Gobbo off more. He slapped one frozen ham of a fist into an open palm. “Let’s teach these folks a lesson!”
The rest of the Gobbos seemed happy with that command. Aelfie and I instinctively pressed together back to back. My hand was already in my bag, reaching for the ball-peen hammer, as I could hear Aelfie start to speak the words of what I really hoped was a spell. Things were about to get very painful for us.
But that isn’t what happened. Right when the mob beatdown was about to begin, a clear, powerful voice, a very familiar Lapin Garou’s voice in fact, echoed out from behind the mob.
“Stop this madness this very instant or by all the authority of my station, I will collar each and every one of you!”
24
EVERYBODY STOPPED. I mean, everybody stopped, even Monster Mash. Seven-foot tall, cuddly-wuddly rabbits had a way of making people listen, even if Bunny didn’t have the perfect ‘I-mean-business’ voice. All eyes turned towards her, standing a good space down the Riverwalk from our little get-together. The general roar of violence from back down the path had quieted down to a dull murmur, enough to let us all hear the distant-and-steadily-growing wail of police sirens and a more immediate sound of a car peeling out and away.
I could only guess that Beaks and Blythe had decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
Bunny was as resplendently fluffy as I remembered, her bulky, rabbity form stuffed into a stretchy workout top, bicycle shorts, and a leather jacket that looked a size or two too small (because it was). She had no obvious weapons, not that she needed them, but did have two sets of handcuffs stuffed into each paw. Her eyes glowed a threatening red, cowing the entire crowd of Gobbos into submission … at least until one of her large ears flopped over cutely across one eye.
Despite the danger of the moment, I cracked a stupid smile.
Regardless of the cuteness, Bunny growled out again, looking at Monstro, “Bernie, Dame Brightsun called me down here to investigate your trespassing problem, not to clean up after a double homicide.” She gestured behind her, chains clinking with every motion. “And what were you people thinking with such a blatant use of magic? Mundane guardsmen are coming this very second!”
Embarrassed, I raised my hand meekly. “I’m afraid that magic thing was my fault.”
Bernie looked about as put off as I did, his wet cement complexion darkening. “We weren’t going to murder anyone, Huntress. We were only going to thrash them a little before turning them over to you. Honest!”
Those glowing red eyes swept across everyone on scene. I think it was sinking in just how stupidly we were all acting. Just because we were fantasy creatures didn’t mean we weren’t living in a rather normal sort of world. Even Aelfread looked vaguely chastised by Bunny’s glare.
“I will sort this out, I promise you, but not here.” Bunny spun the cuffs around floofy fingers and deposited them back into folds of her jacket with a motion that defied my attempts to follow. “You lot should be glad that Polly isn’t around to see this. Now, take us to your lodge at once.”
The Gobbos shuddered a bit at that name drop save for Bernie who bristled instead. Still, he fell into line with the rest and they started to shuffle off away from the river. Aelfread and I glanced at each other, not sure if this was a spot of good luck or the start of something worse. Bunny bounced up to us in a few, distance-eating hops and I bit back the subconscious urge to just huggle all that soft white fuzz. She’d likely drop kick me to the moon if I did and I respected Bunny too much to try.
“Good Huntress Bunny,” Aelfie began, smooth as butter, “we are so fortunate that you arrived when – “
Bunny growled, her eyes pulsing with animal fury. “Still your tongue, Aelfson. You two are not beyond reproach or free to go!”
Aelfie, not being an idiot, cowed and nodded weakly as the bounty hunter shifted her gaze to me. Her expression softened to match her fur and that glow dimmed. “I hoped we wouldn’t meet again like this, Mary, but I had a feeling we would anyway.”
I scratched at the back of my neck and frowned. “There really is a good reason for all this and I am very sorry about the giant beacon of sunlight.” I blushed a bit. “I, uh, didn’t think it would do that.”
Bunny rolled her eyes and turned away from us. “As I said, I will get to the bottom of all these shenanigans.” She began to stride after the retreating Gobbos. “Come along, you two.”
I sighed and nodded, trudging after her. I didn’t manage to get very far before reaching the extent of the leash of Aelfie’s arm. Aelfread was still holding my hand, you see, and he hadn’t yet started after the rest, either in shock or in stubbornness.
Glancing back and up at him, I could see he was shaking his head. “This is insane. There is no reason she will not simply drag us back to Thyvian. As the humans say, the gig will be up and he will not give us another chance to
escape.”
I bit my lip. “I know that but we have to take the chance here, Aelfie.” I let out a derisive chuckle. “It’s not like we have any possible way of getting away now. If Bunny wants us in manacles, she’ll have us in manacles. I mean, she caught you, er, us easily enough the first time.”
Aelfie blinked at that and then laughed, an honest, charming, tension-melting laugh. “You are right, of course, and I appreciate your candor and courage to be so direct with me, my dear.” He shook his head, shaking out his glorious locks. “I suppose we should follow after, yes?”
It was Bunny who replied, having stopped a few yards away to glare at the both of us. “Yes, you had better put some pep in your step or I will be forced to chain the both of you. Now, move it!”
She had only needed to tell us twice. What can I say? We’re fast learners.
Bernie led the way, a big, chiseled landmark trudging through the dark. The rest of the Gobbos, human and figment alike, seemed to blend into the environment. And I mean it like that; they didn’t so much disappear as kind of fade away, become inconsequential. If I forced myself to look at one, I could see that one but the moment I looked away, they became part of the scenery. It hurt my brain, to be honest, so I tried not to think about it too hard.
It wasn’t long before we were past the unkempt grass by the Riverwalk and into the concrete valleys of Saginaw proper. This part of town had seen better days, the manufacturing centers and factories having long abandoned the place. If you were a tribe of homeless and poor imaginary creatures, I couldn’t think of a better place to find a hidey-hole in the city.
Our march went on in utter silence. The police sirens were far behind us and the alleys we walked through were as shadowy as the riverfront had been despite the occasional street lamps lighting our way. The darkness didn’t seem to bother Bunny at all and she never was more than a few steps away from us, no doubt because Aelfie was an obvious flight risk. I couldn’t blame her for that one.
