by Al K. Line
This was the true gift of the magic, to make me remember, or maybe unlock this purity of soul I was dangerously close to losing.
I was still gonna bash goblin heads though. A lady has her standards and they'd screwed with us enough.
"You ready?" asked Dancer as we marched across the grass straight back into the fray.
"I'm ready. It's now or never, and enough people are getting hurt."
"Just don't do anything stupid," warned Dancer, giving me what I assume he thought was a hard stare.
"As if," I said, affronted.
Then I was off, fast as Intus after free Marmite. I tore through the people in my way, shoved them over, flung them from me, my passage like an ever-moving bomb as police, students, fighting women and arguing men were cast aside for their own good.
Closer to the console, the crowds were so dense, the people packed so ridiculously tight to the draw of the power of the machine, I had to ease to a slow walk. I yanked people from behind and threw them like trash but as I made painstaking progress there was no room to do anything. People were all around me, too densely packed for me to even raise an arm, like I was at the front of a damn rock concert not at the bloody fair in Cardiff on a damp night.
Painted faces scowled, clawed hands raked me, and tongues flicked out to lick my ears.
This would take too long, there'd be nothing but corpses left soon. I felt their anger, their hatred, their violence as a palpable thing in the air. It was thick with their shouts and their cursing, their attempts at fighting. People tried to bash each other but there was no space to do so, all they could do was bang heads and knee each other in their dangly bits.
What I really wanted to do was launch myself into the air and come crashing down right on top of the damn console.
Wait, why didn't I do exactly that?
Because people would see, magic and vampires and all that good Hidden stuff would be exposed and I'd be in serious trouble. But maybe there was another way. A way to do it without it looking like a superhuman feat of strength and impossible might.
I so wanted to do it though, to crouch then leap like Superman, raise a fist in the air and stomp the controls as I landed, leaving it nothing but mangled metal and frayed cable.
Thinking as I moved, I barged my way to the side, veering away from the tight press of people and only having to smack a few guys in the nose to get clear. The next ride over from the machine—and I gulped, knowing this would have to be it—was one where you sit in a lozenge of a cab on an extended arm spinning in all directions, and very fast, whilst also going around in a circle like the much more sedate big wheel but at ten times the speed.
I'd been on it once before, and even I got sick, and I love these types of things. But there are limits, and this wasn't one of my favorites.
The Obliterator.
I ran for it, only to see Dancer coming in from another direction. I put vampire juice into my run, just a touch, and grabbed hold of him and stopped him before we hit the crowd shouting and jeering at the bottom of the ride, egging on those already spinning who were acting ridiculously stupid.
"You were gonna get on, then launch yourself at the console, right?" I asked.
"How'd you know?"
"Because that's exactly what I'm going to do." I squirmed as I watched people opening the doors on the capsules and hanging out. One woman lost her grip and went sailing through the air, then she landed. And then she was quiet. The crowd roared and more people acted just as idiotic.
"No, it's too dangerous. Did you see that?" Dancer went to move off but I reached out and pulled him back to me. "Kate, what the hell? She's dead, that woman is dead. You want to be next."
"Dancer, boss, tell me something. Who's the invulnerable immortal vampire stuffed with magic here?"
"Um, you?"
"Yeah. And who's the Head, who is made of very squishy skin and breakable bone who will pop like a balloon when he lands unless he uses magic that people will see?"
"Um, that's me, right?"
"Exactly. It's safer for me to do it. Unless you use lots of magic you'll be toast."
"I'll be fine," he said, brushing me off. "I'll use just enough to stop myself getting injured, a subtle force field nobody will see."
"And if you do that, what kind of force will you hit with? It cushions you, right? So it won't totally trash the console."
"No, it won't, but the moment I land I can just smash it. Simple."
"Best not to take any risks. So I'm going."
With that I said, "Sorry," and grabbed Dancer's arm, swung him around, and flung him away. As he flew away from the ride I ran forward, pushed through the shouting crowd as people high above hung on for dear life, or lost their grip and got mangled, making it to the guy operating this death trap.
"Stop it, now," I ordered, using enough glamor for him to obey instantly.
A little too instantly.
Rather than gently easing the ride to a halt, he yanked hard on a lever and the whole machine groaned and screeched as metal bearings began to heat up with the friction, or sudden lack of it. They screamed and I thought for a minute the whole thing was about to break away from the massive base, but it held and came to a gentle stop. Then I said to the man, "I'm getting in, and then I want you to make this thing go as fast as possible. Okay?"
"Okay," he mumbled, eyes distant, face blank.
My bare arms fading from the blisters, the ink fat and darker than the devil's heart, I jumped into an empty cab, swung the door closed, and nodded to the guy.
The ride started and I held on tight.
Time to ride the Obliterator. Yikes.
A Wild Ride
The ride spun. Around and around I went, the people in the other cabs wild with excitement, shouting, screaming, being utter dicks. With nothing to fear, they were moving around inside the two-seater cabs rather than keeping the bar down, a safety feature you couldn't turn off, but they managed to slip out from under it and open the door.
As we got up some serious speed, I was distracted by a woman in the next car over. She'd unlocked the door and was holding on to the frame of the cab. But we were spinning wildly now, up, down, every which way, so, obviously, the door slammed shut. On her hand. She screamed as she stared at the stump of her fingers, four digits sliced clean off.
Then the stupid woman pushed the door open again as if she could catch them or something, and she fell right out, thumped onto a radial arm, tumbled to a cab below, her back breaking before she even hit the ground.
It didn't exactly entice me to escape my own safety barrier, certainly not to open the door, but I did. I bent the metal that was keeping me seated, pushed it away, then shoved the door open and, trying to mask my actions, I ripped the whole damn door off and let it drop between the workings of the ride to a clear spot on the ground as I reached the lowest part of my trajectory.
All the while the ride was getting faster and I was becoming increasingly nauseous. Bile rose and I had to consciously fight it down. Much as the people on the ride were annoying the hell out of me, I didn't want to inflict that on them.
I spread my legs wide in the missing doorway to the cage and gripped above my head as my hair flew and my insides churned. I had to get my bearings, had to focus on the console and time this just right if it was to look natural. But it was almost impossible because as well as spinning around I was being thrown in all directions as the car spun in a disorientating circle then was upside down, shooting in then out.
I needed to launch myself when I was furthest away from the center of the ride, so I focused on the movements, on the set rhythm this monstrous, maybe aptly named Obliterator danced to.
After a few more revolutions I got the movements fixed and knew when I had to jump. We spun faster, everything flashing past in a blur, but I focused on my vampire sense, on how I saw things even when I moved fast, and slowly everything locked into position as I slowed time in my mind, allowing me to prepare.
Here we went,
one more revolution, spun upside down, then the cab shot inward as I was turned the right way up, and then it shot out the other way.
Almost here, the cab getting further and further away from the center of gravity. I locked eyes on the group of goblins and people. A ring of green maniacs were around the console, five deep, ensuring nobody got near it as the machine pumped furiously, up and down, sucking up energy and delivering the fear it stole down into the afterlives.
My cab reached the zenith, high up and out as far as it would go. It was now or never. I was already being shunted, the cab turning, and soon I'd be upside down. If I jumped then all I'd hit would be another cab.
Ink swelled, magic consumed me, the strength of the vampire took me over and flushed my system with supercharged energy.
I bent at the knee, leaned forward, and launched myself as high as I could go.
Crash
A spotlight strobed past, highlighting me like a ghost, then was gone. Orange and red and green lights pulsed but I focused on the string of green bulbs that marked the goblin's area of control. I drew my arms straight down by my sides as I shot up at an angle like a rocket heading for the moon. My body felt super-charged, as if this was what the magic needed, a way to release the pent up energy in a suitably spectacular way.
And then I was plummeting, dropping like a dead weight, true to my mark. I readied as gravity did what it did best, and bent my knees, willed protective forces to flow through my ink, and allowed the vampire nature to emerge and shroud me in a way just as powerful as any magical shield could.
I looked down, saw countless angry faces and fists flying, blood spurting, highlighted in the sickly green glow. And the goblins, how small they looked from above, the tops of their green heads like unripe fruit all wrinkled and blotchy. The machine moved with an effortless grace of its own dark kind, powered by hell itself.
Was this just mischief for the sake of mischief? I wouldn't put it past the goblins. They'd done some crazy stuff over the years just because it's in their nature to do so, to be mean and angry and to hurt others for kicks. But this felt like something else, something grander and certainly more destructive.
Thoughts tumbled, falling aside as the ground raced up to meet me.
I spread my arms a little, willed so much magic into my legs they felt fat like I was retaining water, and as the crowd gasped and turned their heads up when someone shouted, all eyes were upon me as I smacked into the console.
I think I broke every bone in my legs as I connected with metal at a speed sure to mangle a frail human on impact.
Guess you can't win them all.
A Fighting Chance
My knees buckled as I connected with the top of the console. My shins splintered like an old bone left out in the sun for a week then smashed with a hammer. It felt like my feet had been shunted up through my legs into my groin. Yes, I'd mistimed things, forced the energy down through my feet at the last moment to wreak havoc on the metal, but it meant I was left unprotected and unfocused.
A lever snapped along with my bones and I crumpled onto the wide, rectangular control panel, almost breaking my back. Then I smacked my head on something before tumbling off sideways as pandemonium hit.
I grabbed for the metal plinth and hauled myself up, bone creaking and fusing fast, the pain incredible. My right leg snapped back into something resembling straight as my kneecap shifted beneath the leather, an experience I do not recommend. Somehow I had strength enough to get to my feet, albeit with less than absolute confidence. My boots were also ruined. Bits of bone stuck through the leather, which was most disconcerting.
The console hissed and steamed and angry green faces pressed in on me, but I could see the machine. Whatever I'd done had merely sped it up, made things worse. It was pumping furiously, out of sync now, moving fast then slow, the beat of its metal heart arrhythmic, stuttering.
With my own focus gone, I felt the waves of its power surge then ebb, and I wasn't afraid any more, not of anything, as its effects took hold.
Taking advantage of this, yet knowing somehow it was dangerous and could expose my abilities if I wasn't careful, I was about to punch the console back into the stone age as nothing but slag but caught myself in time. I paused, then my arm shot out and grabbed a wrench from an astonished goblin still recovering from my appearance. In one fluid motion I swung it over my head and smashed into the buttons, knobs, and levers.
Again, and again, until everything was broken. Buttons flew off in all directions, and the dial itself—disappointedly it only went up to ten—succumbed to my extreme and incessant battering.
The last lever broke off with a side swipe, and then I gave it an extra hard whack, my arm burning dangerously hot as magic gave me an incredible boost. The wrench went clear through metal, tearing it like paper.
Steam clouded my vision so I dropped the wrench and pushed my hand deep into the belly of the controls, grabbing hold of wires. I yanked and tore them free then went back in for more, and as the vibrations through the ground changed from the erratic thudding of the machine to something unanticipated, more like a herd of charging, or retreating elephants, I understood it was the crowd running.
Why?
Ah, the fire I was standing in.
The plinth was burning, hissing and spluttering, but it was ruined. I stepped back into the screaming goblins who were moving away as the fire shot high, only just avoiding getting myself utterly burned, and then all was white and cool and I couldn't see.
What had happened? What was this?
Something brushed against my eyes and I batted it away then felt something sticky on my head. I wiped my face again with blistered and bleeding hands and looked into the eyes of Dancer. He smiled and sprayed my legs with the fire extinguisher, threw it aside, then said, very loudly, "Let's go. And nobody better try to stop us."
He glared at the angry goblins but without the machine they were cowed, knew who he was and who I was. They knew there would be punishment for what they'd done and that now wasn't the time to make that punishment worse by disobeying.
Dancer reached out his hand and I took it. It was a struggle, but I kept my face neutral even though my palm was red and one big blister. Oh, and the legs hurt like a mo-fo too.
We walked through the parting crowd, owning it. I tried to sashay but my kneecaps seemed to have fused and I moved like an invalid stork on heavy medication instead, but the goblins and the people all stepped aside.
People were freaked. They mumbled and shook their heads as they stared at us then each other. Before we'd even got away from them all they were wandering off or asking what had happened, much of it a blur. A fog of violence that had suddenly vanished.
The police were offering assistance, crowds moved to the ambulances still intact. Then everything was suddenly silent and dark as the rides were powered down and the lights were shut off.
"Wait," I said, stopping dead in my tracks.
"What's wrong?" Dancer turned to see where I was looking.
"The machine, it's still there."
"Ah, yes, don't worry about that."
I smiled as tiny furry creatures swarmed over the machine; one stood at the top of its head and saluted to Dancer.
The gremlins would have it dismantled down to useless scrap within minutes.
They hated the goblins almost as much as I did.
I never did get a hot dog.
And We're Done
Dancer drove. Neither Persimmon nor I were up to it, what with the damage to our legs and the overall being knackered and battered thing.
Persimmon got out of the car with Dancer's help and a lot of grunting, then took off my coat and passed it in with a sweet smile.
Dancer, now familiar with the shifter lack of concern about nudity, still ogled her, which I guess is a good sign as far as their relationship goes, and after they had a brief chat and big kiss she was gone, her front door slamming shut behind her.
"Right, let's get you home."
"Sounds divine," I grunted as I stretched out on the back seat and pulled my coat over me. It smelled of perfume and sweat and panther musk, a heady mix if ever there was one.
"You did good, Kate, very good." I sat up and caught his smiling reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I smashed myself to pieces, nearly went crazy and killed them all in front of a huge crowd, and failed to stop them at the barn before this all got out of control."
Dancer glanced at a smoldering building as we drove through the city, one of many we passed, the streets alive with excited people lit up by the flashing lights of police cars, ambulances, and fire engines. "Yes, but you saved the city before the goblins won. And anyway," he said brightly, "it was a good introduction to the job. Being an enforcer isn't usually this breezy so it was best to ease you in gently."
"I honestly don't know if you're joking or not," I said, studying his expression.
"You know me, I don't joke about Hidden matters."
"So, what now?" I asked, still curious even though I was so tired I could have slept for a century.
"Now? It's done. I'll check to see what the damage is in the morning, get the goblins rounded up now they've been returned to what little sense they had, and that's that."
"What!? But we still don't know why they did this, or even how. You can't be serious?"
"Kate, you've been a part of this world long enough to know that not much of it makes sense. Hidden do inexplicable things for inexplicable reasons. There's always something going on, always one urgent drama or another. You know that."
"Yeah, but—"
Dancer waved me silent. "Trust me, not everything Hidden involves a terrible conspiracy. Mostly it's just everyone doing what's in their nature to do. That's life."
"And death," I muttered.
We were silent the rest of the way home. Dancer kept the headlights on and walked me up to the front door. The bowl of milk was empty and the land and house looked cleaner and tidier. Guess the hobs had got to work already.
Then the front door opened. Faz and Mithnite stood there smiling at me, a warm glow and heat from the house spilled out to greet me, the floors sparkled and I knew I'd succeeded.
