Mid-Arc

Home > Fantasy > Mid-Arc > Page 23
Mid-Arc Page 23

by David Gosnell


  Grey gives me a raised eyebrow.

  “So what happens if I say no?”

  “This is not a demand or blackmail. I fully plan to release you on the first day after your second year here. You are no threat to mankind; maybe to yourself. Do not think the invitation comes with strings. I know the Protectorate needs you more than you need them. People with your talents are few. People with your gifts and attitude don’t really exist. There have been those with your gifts when Maldgorath chooses to create them. Usually, they have to be put down.”

  That is no lie. I am not the first to be given such gifts. But all before me became monsters in their own right and have either been put down quickly or just mysteriously disappeared. More than likely “reaped” as Arix put it.

  I take a deep breath. Again, Grey has been more than fair with me. I have to be fair with him and fair starts with the truth.

  “I can’t put anything in front of my quest, Grey. I just can’t. But we both know Maldgorath is elusive and not always even in this realm of ours. How about an independent contractor? There will be times I can assist, there will be times I can’t. I need the flexibility.”

  A smile appears on my warden’s face.

  “Fairly and honestly answered, Arthur. It’s not my place to say what the Protectorate will accept or won’t. I am a bit of an outsider myself, given that I cannot be trusted except to take orders because of the evil influence constantly pushing me.” He rolls his eyes. “Personally I would think them fools not to snap at your offer.”

  He stands, meaning our time is done. We shake hands.

  “Your intensive preparations resume in two days. Please, enjoy the downtime.

  “I will.”

  I make my exit and my mind races with things to do. Phone calls to home. Naps are good too.

  I head up to my room because that’s where my pillow is. Kick some of Maldgorath’s minions around and get a nice vacation. I’m feeling Pavlov’s influence; that sneaky bastard. I’ll get him and his little dogs too. But now it’s time for lights out. I head to my window to pull the curtains. I take a gaze out in the yard, and something is out of kilter. It’s not Vets with this batch of campers - it’s Znuul and Shey sitting out on the rear lawn. And they appear to be getting along. It's not because he’s in human form because she still manages to lay a “demon scum” on him in human form regardless. There they are, chatting away about something in a perfectly civil manner. Shey is cross-legged and looks relaxed. Znuul is lounging on his side. Dang next thing I know I’ll find Sil wearing a Nun’s habit.

  Wait, she’s strange enough to do that for all the wrong reasons.

  I close the curtains deciding not to give it another thought. Off to nappy-land I go. The bed is comfy, the pillow is right. But routine is hard to shake, even semi-jetlagged, and I drift in and out, but after an hour and a half, I figure I am meant to be awake. It’s a good time to make a phone call or two, I figure, and really nothing could make me happier. So, I roll out of bed, put on some shoes, and go to open the curtain.

  Shey and Znuul have vacated the lawn. That would have been creepy if they were still there talking. I think about what I heard from Shey almost two years ago; about her captivity in Znuul’s camp and his “treatment” of her. I would have never imagined what I saw today.

  As my eye roves over the yard, I spy the patio table and around it is Znuul, Pffif, Shey, Sil, and Vets. Hjuul is even sitting near them. The conversation is more robust, in fact, Vets seems rather agitated. She bangs on the table, points at everyone and stands up. Pffif stands up on his chair and says something to her. It’s hard to tell her exact reaction, but overall - not happy. She stalks off, leaving them.

  I figure I’ll make a cup of coffee and join in the conversation.

  I make my way to the kitchen and pass Vets.

  “What was that about around the patio table?”

  She gives me a stern look.

  “I disagree with them. Know that. Talk to them first. That is what they want.”

  I say, “okay” and let her stalk off.

  At the kitchen, I grind and pour a double espresso, making sure to leave everything as I found it. Then I head out the doors to the rear patio.

  And I am alone. The party has broken up. So, I figure I’ll at least take in my cup of coffee there, enjoying the view and the afternoon sky. The coffee is dark and rich. I ponder the remainder of my afternoon. Doing nothing does not come easy when you’re used to being busy every moment.

  I settle on going to the library for more learning, stopping by the kitchen to rinse my mug and get it in the dishwasher -- no more muffins of shame for me. I’m putting the mug away when I feel a tug on my trousers. It’s Pffif.

  “Master Arthur, we’d be likin’ to have a team meetin’ with ye, if ye be agreeable.”

  “Sure.”

  I follow him into the sitting room off the foyer, where Shey, Sil, and Hjuul are. I survey the room. Hjuul is lying on the floor and making no attempt to come to me. Shey is sitting very properly in one of the wing-back chairs. Pffif is moving from foot to foot and also scanning the room. Sil is on the sofa in her summoned clothing of corset and black pleated leather skirt looking away. She has one hand under the skirt on her thigh, though not apparently going there, yet. They are all nervous.

  “What’s up guys?”

  Pffif steps up. “Well, there’s bein' somethin’ we’s need to talk about an…” He shuffles his feet a little more, looking around. “Ana, Sheyliene’s gonna tell ye bout it.”

  Based on the look that comes over Shey’s face, that wasn’t the plan. She sticks her tongue out at Pffif who rushes over to a chair.

  “We need to talk to you about chasing the Collector,” Shey says. “We think it’s best to stay as far away from that one as possible unless we can bring forces with us. The truth is, Arthur, we can’t hope to stand against an ancient one like that. He would either kill you or take you. We don’t think either of those are good outcomes.”

  “What are you all thinking? You cannot be serious. All of you have been abused by that monster in one way or the other. You cannot tell me you don’t want revenge.”

  Everybody winces at my outburst.

  Shey holds her hands out as if to say calm down.

  “Arthur, we would all like to see him perish but we just don’t have the strength. You don’t know him. We do. You don’t know the depth of his sick mind. Can you imagine if he took you, we’d all be back where we started, and he’d probably send you after your own family just to enjoy your torment afterward – sound familiar?”

  I stand up. They just don’t see it like I do.

  “First, I would never give in to that bastard. Second, we finally have a weapon; have you forgotten? We have the sword. We can take his head and never have to worry about that piece of garbage again.”

  “You're thinkin’ ye be gettin' close enough ta use that slicer?” Pffif says. “Tell ye what, count ye’ out a minute ana there’s sixty foes in the room as fast as he be thinkin’ their names. Ana while we be messin’ with them, he’ll be castin’ foul and dark magics, or that damn dragon of his be spittin’ silver fire. We love ye, Arthur, ana donnae wanna see ye dead or worse.”

  “I can’t believe this! Is Vets’ the only one that believes in me…? Believes in us? We can do this. I will do this! Hjuul?”

  His response is to whine and fold his ears back. Traitor.

  I look over at Sil, and she must be full on nervous now, based on her damned habit.

  “Really, Sil, I thought you wanted that bastard dead as much as I did. One true law, eh? Jerry doesn’t need vengeance, does he? Answer me, bitch.”

  She stops what she is doing and spins around on the sofa to get up. When she gets up, the glamour drops, and it’s Sil the monster. She looks at me, virtually trembling in what appears to be rage.

  “Maybe I just don’t want you to die too. Bitch, hag, succubus monster – can you degrade me anymore? Nobody in this room wants that parasite de
ad more than me!”

  She looks around the room at the others, and she stiffens with her hands out to her side like she is grabbing two pillars. Her hair begins to stick out like she just put her hands on a Van De Graf generator. Her eyes roll up in her head. “I want to taste his blood! I want to look down as his eyes become milky white, while his life leaves him in my loins!”

  Her eyes roll back down, and she is boring holes in me. She closes her eyes and lets out a deafening banshee scream. The windows break. Hjuul yelps and runs from the room claws scrabbling on the marble. Pretty vases on end tables fall and break. The scream goes on and on. Finally, it stops, and she relaxes, trembling.

  The glare returns.

  “I think we want him dead about the same,” Shey says, pulling her hands from her ears and turning to Sil. Sil’s glare shoots over to her and relaxes a wee bit, into more a look of recognition.

  This whole thing is completely out of control.

  Grey comes running into the foyer, takes note of the windows and says, “Someone better have a very good explanation for this, I have guests in my office.”

  He sees Sil and points at her. “You will make yourself presentable now. This is unacceptable behavior. All of you are to separate and calm down. You will explain this to me later when my guests have left.”

  “Yes sir,” is all I can think to say.

  Grey stalks off to resurrect his meeting. I turn back to the group.

  “How long have you all felt this way?”

  Shey steps forward. “We all had talks with Ahtsag Drool today, he made sense. Apparently, he doesn’t want you to die or worse either.”

  Chapter 39

  We all go to our respective rooms, except for Hjuul whom I assume went outside to clear his sensitive ears. After a little time to myself, I realize that I handled the situation very poorly. The matter of revenge affects us all. But, so does hiding away forever, living in constant fear of being found.

  I figure I owe all of them an apology. Especially Sil. I was quite out of line with her, though her response was out of line also. If anyone deserves a piece of my mind, it's that damn Znuul.

  He’s playing demon mind games with my team and me: creating doubt, causing strife. I am absolutely going to call him out on it. I don’t care if he is an ancient bringer of death and destruction. I’m so past all of it. Grey is going to have to deal with it and leash his dog.

  There is a knock on the door. I brace myself to either rip into Znuul or apologize to one of my own.

  I open the door, and Reginald is standing there with an envelope.

  “This is for you, from Grey.” Nothing else; just that and he walks off.

  Anyone else might think he was a prick. But Reginald is just very no-nonsense. I thank him as he’s walking away and he raises his hand in acknowledgment.

  I open the letter, and it reads:

  Arthur,

  The Greeks will require some entertaining, and I have someone to pick up from the airfield. Please use my office phone to call a glazier and have the windows tended to. If they cannot attend today, Reginald has plywood boards, and you should secure the windows with them until they can be properly addressed. Please avoid any further conflict resulting in the destruction of my property.

  -G

  Ps:

  You may use my office phone to call your family after you have made arrangements for the window repairs.

  I stop by Shey’s and Pffif’s room and give a very brief apology, letting them know we will still need to convene with Grey after he returns. Then the apology I dread -- Sil.

  I knock on the door and pray she doesn't answer.

  “Come in, Arthur.”

  Damn, so much for quick and easy. I open the door and there she is, with her back to me and sitting in a chair pulled onto her balcony, one foot on the rail and apparently doing that thing she does. She neither stops nor turns around.

  “What?” she says.

  “I’m here to apologize; I was out of line in my tone and words.”

  She leans her head back over the chair now to regard me in an upside down way.

  “Yes, you were.”

  “Grey will be late, we will all convene with him when he arrives. I’ll see you then.”

  “Thank you, Arthur... Come sit with me.”

  ”Sorry, more apologies to deliver, maybe next time.”

  Got to give the girl credit, she is always trying to try to find ways to tempt me without actually overtly seducing me.

  It turns out the glazier knows the Chateau well and offers to send somebody after hours to tend to it today. That’s one thing gone well. I distract myself with calls to Helen, Bobby, and Jerry, Jr. It’s good to hear their voices and get the updates. Helen tells me that my great, great grandson Matthew starts Pee-Wee baseball next month. I’m excited that I might be free in time to catch a season.

  That is unless I have penalty time from this window thing.

  I brief Reginald on the glazier, and he will be there for them. He’d rather supervise it anyway. This is his house and grounds, after all.

  Sitting around the dinner table with everyone is not something I want to do. I grab a quick sandwich while Marthe prepares dinner. I let her know I won’t be attending tonight. I’m going to review my files on Maldgorath for anything I might have overlooked.

  Know your enemy.

  While on the way to my room for study, I stop by Vets’ room and luckily, she is there.

  “Just wanted to say thanks for standing by me. Please try not to hold the others’ feelings against them.”

  “Yes, my wielder.”

  We share a hug -- no face lick this time.

  When I get back to my room, I get out my book of notes and my laptop. I begin to look over my information and notes, hoping to find something I may have missed; a pattern, a commonality - something. It drags on going nowhere. I’m on the verge of laying my head on the desk I hear Shey’s voice from our meeting: “You don’t know him, we do.”

  I pop up. All this time… The biggest font of information on my foe has been right in front of me! I lay my head on the desk; rest is deserved for noticing what I should have almost two years ago.

  Chapter 40

  I snap to wakefulness by the rapping of knuckles on the door, and by the tune, it should be Roger. I look down at the little puddle of drool on my desk and realize I must have needed the short rest more than I knew. I greet Roger at the door.

  “Grey requests your presence in his office. His words.”

  “Sure, I’ll collect everyone and be right there.”

  It’s one forty-five AM. Wow, he must still be pissed. Not even waiting for the morning.

  I collect everyone, then touch my will and compel Hjuul to the foyer.

  We converge on the foyer and Vets lets Hjuul in. We make our way to the office, and I knock on the door.

  We are told, “Enter, please.”

  We enter. Grey sits at his desk, Znuul in his large corner chair, and Karen has returned - that explains the airport pickup.

  Over steepled fingers, Grey says, “One by one, I will hear what went on today, that resulted in the damage to my home. Not to mention scaring the crap out of my valued customers.”

  He cussed! He never curses. We are so screwed. I try to grab my composure.

  “Sir, let me start,” I say, “as I think it was my emotional response that triggered everything. You see, your goddamn demon pet has been telling my summonlings that I’m crazy to even think about following through on my oath-sworn duty.” I look over to Znuul. “If you had a backbone, you’d have come to me and share your thoughts rather than trying to manipulate my friends here.”

  He looks at me dismissively.

  “I knew what you’d say.”

  “Oh good. Well, you get to hear it anyway, I will get that bastard – he will fall, I will celebrate. You are wrong.”

  Znuul stands and cocks his head at me.

  “Arthur, your arrogance is going to land you d
ead or enslaved. You face a foe you can’t possibly comprehend or prevail against, by yourself.”

  I meet his stare and say, “I’m never alone.”

  He takes a stride toward me, his eyes narrowing on me.

  “What I say is fact, and one easily proven.”

  I take a step forward too.

  “So says, you.”

  His face goes from serious to contemptuous, and he moves in front of Grey’s desk.

  “I’ll prove it now. If you cannot best me, you cannot best him.”

  Immediately I feel the pressure of Znuul’s will. I put up my mental barriers. He takes on a dark steaming aura and begins muttering something in his guttural home language.

  Grey bolts up from his desk.

  “Ahtsag, you will stand down now,” Grey commands.

  Znuul’s face scrunches, I’ve seen that look before; he is resisting.

  “He is not enough,” Znuul says through clenched teeth. Znuul’s eyes lock back on me. “Prepare yourself human, this is going to hurt. But not as much as if Maldgorath himself has you.”

  Hjuul growls. Vets' eyes dart around, looking for weapons. Sil grabs my shoulder and yells, “Arthur, wards!”

  I can’t breathe, it’s like a coil that's wound itself around my chest. Hjuul reacts immediately, lunging at Znuul and the distraction must have broken Znuul’s concentration as my breath returns. Vets goes into action behind the great hound.

  Znuul’s tail lashes out like a whip, striking Hjuul with what appears to be a poison stinger appearing at the end of it. Hjuul’s body crashes into Znuul and flops to the floor, dissolving.

  “Ahtsag, stop,” Grey cries out again.

  Again, Znuul’s face winces. Karen screams at him to back off also.

  That gives Vets time to land a blow on his chin; she follows with blows to his body. None of which seem to have any effect upon him at all. His hand shoots out, and he palms her face. Holding her fighting body at arm’s length, he looks me in the eye. A silver arrow appears in his chest, then another. Billowing black smoke appears from the strikes.

 

‹ Prev