The Curious Case of Simon Todd

by Vanessa C. Hawkins

  Simon, despite his trepidation and quivering body parts, had been set to reconfigure the elements in Mr. Dashing’s pistol as the wizard uttered his doom. Him standing in place should add another twenty percent. Simon mused, really dredging the numbers up out of nowhere. That means there is a forty-eight percent chance of hitting him, a fifty-two percent chance of being turned to cinder. The lever was cocked. Mr. Todd looked up and began to aim.

  Heironymous had all five fingers splayed, his arm outstretched as a ball of churning hellfire began to form within the recess of his palm. Follow the line of his arm down towards his chest and the chains. Distance times degree of angle divided by — SEVEN HELLS!

  Simon closed his eyes and shot.

  Right into the heart of Heironymous Grimguild, Chancellor of Grimguild University for Witches and Wizards and head of the wizard mafia.

  The sorcerer gasped, fireball quelled as he clenched his fists and stepped back. The chains were all but severed, only one still attached to his chest as the insect swarms began to scurry away.

  There was an enormous cloud of bugs as he screamed, his human body tumbling back onto the palm of the decaying forearm like a bean spilling from a larger shell casing. Mr. Todd gritted his teeth as he carefully placed the pistol back into his trousers’ pocket and took hold of the flying bird’s feet with both hands.

  Miss Baxter, though Simon could hear Mortimer’s voice within, erupted with laughter.

  “You’ve lost your hold with Pestilence, Wizard!”

  Heironymous, on hands and knees, looked behind him as the chains began to reform, and the woman-beetle-like Hell mother once again appeared behind him, albeit dazed.

  “All that’s left is for me to get revenge for Rebecca!”

  “No!” Heironymous grunted, wrapping an arm about his small dog as a circle of magic formed beneath him. “I’m not through yet!”

  But Miss Baxter once again began to change, growing larger and larger as Simon Todd grew near, clumsily directing the skeletal fowl closer to her by swinging his legs quite foolishly.

  “Miss Baxter!” he called again, this time garnering her attention as she turned her obsidian gaze towards him.

  “Mr. Todd?” She smiled, fangs pearlescent and wicked as she ushered the flying undead creation closer. Simon was less than a hand span away, could see the pulsating chains wrapped about her limbs as she regarded him from within the frame of her horned bonnet.

  “This isn’t you, Miss Baxter!” he called.

  Her smiled grew wider, more malicious. “It has always been me, Simon. You were just too blind to see.”

  Mr. Todd was a mess. Blood was drying upon his face, his coat was missing, his trousers were torn and bloodied, and he was currently holding onto the legs of a demon bird creation from Hell. However, despite all that, Simon Todd could still hear the angelic voice of his beloved, adored and fair Miss Baxter cooing beneath the foul rapture of the Grim Reaper.

  “I think that’s only half true at the moment.” He steeled his face, looking at the chain, and before Death had a chance to decipher the Frelish man’s thoughts, Simon reached one spectral hand through the young lady’s chest, with only a bit of a blush to his cheeks, and seized her heart.

  “Unhand her!” Simon yelled, the chains igniting in fire. “Let go of her soul and go back to your prison!”

  The demon shouted. Simon Todd resumed his form, feeling real flesh and blood hands grasping at the young lady’s heart. His entire plan had focused on a whim, on Molly telling him how the creator of Grimguild had given up his heart to bind himself to several mages. This in turn was buttressed by the fact that Heironymous himself admitted to Mortimer founding the University. Simon supposed that Hell Lords, especially Mr. Grim, needed a heart or soul in order to spill themselves into another world or individual. Removing the heart meant removing the demon.

  And Miss Baxter’s life, but Simon was hoping he’d be able to usher Morty away without harming her too much.

  However as Miss Baxter continued to scream, and Heironymous unceremoniously disappeared back beyond the Hellscape, Simon grew more and more worried. “Come on now, Mortimer!” Simon said. It felt awfully strange to grasp her beating heart through her chest. It was warm, thrumming wildly and a bit gooey, like a dried fig.

  Mr. Todd could see the links of the chains beginning to pull away, loosening around her limbs. His fingers twitched slightly, feeling for the prongs that was holding them in place. Though he was ghost-like, Simon could feel the tines of the chains as though they were corporeal, oddly enough.

  “SIMON TODD!”

  Simon bit his lip. The bones were beginning to drop from the sky. Miss Baxter was slowly drifting downward, towards the now slightly slumped mound of inanimate skeletons decorating the tar-like terrain of the Hellscape.

  “FOUR CHAINS MEAN SHE’S MINE!” The voice garbled a laugh. “THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO!”

  Simon could feel the teeth of the chains gripping around her heart. He winced as he willed his hand to go through, playing a surgeon without really knowing what would happen. As his hand pressed harder around her heart, Simon slowly opened his fist until the claws of the magical chain slipped around his fingers. If he could get the chains out, somehow he knew she’d be free of Mortimer’s possession, if not of his presence entirely.

  Mr. Grim however, seemed to sense something was amiss. With a spasm of knowing, Death paused in his macabre chortling, looking towards Mr. Todd as Simon tried to focus on the task at hand.

  It was getting dreadfully hard to hold onto the damned bone bird and maneuver his way through the chains without losing hold of either. As the Grim Reaper leaned forward in an effort to inspect Simon’s tinkering, however, Mr. Todd jerked his hand away, using the entirety of his bodyweight as he awkwardly fell back and let go of his lofty companion.

  The talons of the Hell Lord’s chains embraced his fist as he fell, well away, to Simon’s relief, from her heart. Miss Baxter screamed, but hauled back reflexively in the opposite direction, hoping to disentangle herself from Mr. Todd’s grip. The chains grew tight, but as Simon felt his ghost-like powers ebb in and out through her solar plexus, so too did the chains follow until they were wrenched from her body in a spurt of black ichor.

  The Grim Reaper shrieked its displeasure as all four chains wriggled outside her body like streamers caught in a whirling hurricane. Miss Baxter collapsed as Simon fell and stumbled over skeletal detritus, rolling backward into the coppery tar of the landscape.

  “Miss Baxter!” he called, struggling to keep close to her, smearing blood over the ruin of undead creatures. He cradled her head as Mortimer Grim began to rematerialize, not as the behemoth of hard bone and plate from before, but as a spectre of black shadow with hollow eyes.

  “Miss Baxter, it’s alright!” Her skin was returning its pallor, her teeth returning to normal shape. Still however, there was a chain about her right arm, smoking as though hot against the skin. Simon bent to inspect it before he was driven away.

  “You!” The voice was like a breath sucked in, and Simon felt the air drawn from his lungs as Mortimer hauled him into the air, away from the young woman. “If I cannot have her soul now, I shall devour yours in the meantime!” His boney hands were cold as ice, and Simon could feel them like knives wrapped up in the collar of his shirt.

  Death gasped again, and Simon could feel some part of himself whirl away into the darkness as the Hell Lord opened his mouth to consume him. With rows of rotting teeth, the Grim Reaper looked like he did in all the stories Simon had ever heard of him. Wrapped in a black shroud, he was a bone man holding a scythe with cavernous black eyes, nothing like the rotund business man from before.

  Mr. Todd felt his eyes roll back and his body fall away. He could see all the way to the back of Death’s skull. There were portraits of darkness there, etched into bone, depicting sullen ships upon black water and creatures of power dissolved to bleached bone and memories. Simon was sure he was going to die, but when Mr. Grim pu
lled back, so too did Mr. Todd, away into the great room of the Grimguild University.

  Death laughed, and then dropped him like a bag of soiled laundry. “Your soul is split.” Once again the chains binding him to Miss Baxter began to wrap about his wrists, and the shrouded reaper transformed back into his livelier self, complete with balding scalp and plump round belly.

  “I’d say you have lady luck on your side, Mr. Todd,” Mortimer said flatly, dusting off the lapels of his suit. “Only, she’s currently bound to another.”

  Simon blinked, feeling rather lightheaded as he attempted to sit up.

  “No matter,” he continued, stepping forward to loom over the hapless Mr. Todd. “Know this, once that other half of your soul passes into the next world, I will come for you Simon Todd. And you won’t have anyone to aid you once you’re dead.” A smile stretched over the old man’s face that warped his cheeks and threw shadows over his eye sockets.

  “Not even Miss Baxter!” He laughed, and in another instant was gone, along with the chains, and the bones and Heironymous, and…Miss Baxter’s arm.

  Chapter 28

  Sedimental Confessions

  “Oh dear.” Mr. Todd was in quite the pickle, and he never really had an affinity for pickles so it was really, rather vexing at the moment.

  “Miss Baxter! Oh seven hells what do I do?” Simon was in an utter panic. Miss Baxter, though breathing, was lying prone upon the floor of the great room. Her right arm, which had been covered by the black lace of her gown just moments before, was completely bare of skin or muscle, and was in fact nothing but bare bone all the way up to her elbow. Simon Todd was all alone. Heironymous had disappeared.

  “What is happening?” Mr. Todd shouted, hearing nothing in return besides his own voice echoing off the high ceiling. He crawled over to the young lady to inspect her, but as he attempted to haul her up into his arms, he found he was no longer able to hold anything. In fact, his limbs were entirely ghostlike.

  “Why can’t I control it?” Simon looked down at his ethereal arms and attempted to expel the magic that made him transparent. It didn’t seem to be working properly however. At least not in the same manner as before. Mr. Todd’s affliction had apparently gotten a whole lot worse.

  “Alright,” he murmured, looking up in an attempt to assuage his worry. “I need to get out of here before anyone comes back.” He wasn’t quite aware he was madly speaking to himself yet. “In order to do that I need to take Miss Baxter somewhere.” Simon looked back to her face, avoiding her arm as he tugged the length of her sleeve down to cover it. “In order to that,” he mused, finding comfort in her serene expression. “I need to pick her up.”

  Mr. Todd clicked his tongue. “Right,” he said, wiggling his fingers. He took in a deep breath, was only momentarily concerned when the sensation of air didn’t fill his lungs, and attempted to slip his hands beneath her. When they went through, he tried again, furrowing his brow and sticking out his tongue.

  “Come on, Mr. Todd, you ninny,” he mumbled, pursing his lips. ”Just pick her up.”

  After several failed attempts to do so, Simon threw his hands up in the air, stalking around the great room in a fit of worry. “Perhaps,” he said, biting at his thumb as he whirled around on his heels. “I’ve got it backwards.” He moved over towards her again, stooping to one knee and noticing offhandedly he was once again wearing his jacket. Deciding to leave that quandary for another time, Simon tried to do the opposite of what he did before. Instead of expending energy to become as a ghost, he attempted to do the same, but backwards. Simon Todd tried to solidify his body in the same manner as he made it disappear.

  With a bit of hope and his fingers crossed for good luck, Mr. Todd once again endeavored to pick up the young lady. This time he completed the task with success.

  “Cheerio,” he said with a smile, taking in another breath and finding the feeling of air filling his lungs to be quite uncanny. “Now to get somewhere safe.”

  Mr. Todd remembered Molly saying most people came in to the Wizard University through dirigibles. If only Simon could find them now, he may have been able to get away before Heironymous came back with more of his wizard gangsters.

  “Where is it?” When he heard a bark from the other side of the great room however, the side where he entered, Mr. Todd took that as a sign to go in the opposite direction, and promptly left via a small door in the western wall.

  He was so, awfully tired, and keeping his physical form as he went was proving much more difficult than it had been to transform into a ghost. A few times as he went along, he lost hold of Miss Baxter. She slipped through his hands, her legs tumbled to the floor, and Mr. Todd had to painstakingly go through the entire process of becoming solid once more. By the time he had exited through the corridor and onto the roof slightly west of the now shattered glass paneled great room, Simon was already feeling quite exhausted.

  Worst yet, there was nothing on the roof aside from an old Penny Farthing with a wicker basket in the front and three deflated balloons pooling flaccidly to the side.

  “Egads…” Simon tried to wiggle his fingers. He could feel them press against the layered fabric of Miss Baxter’s dress. The top of the tower was bare of most things, save a wrought iron fence meant to keep onlookers from foolishly falling over the side. As Simon looked up, he could see the taller towers of Grimguild, dirigibles bobbing up and down as though to mock him of their existence. There was another bark from the corridor, and Simon bit his lip, thinking of the insufferable dog Lucifer herding his master straight to them.

  “Sure could use some of that magic now,” Simon said, moving towards the Penny Farthing to inspect it. It was painted black, in good condition, and the three deflated balloons were large, connected via ropes, wire and tubing to an engine on the back.

  “This is no ordinary bicycle!” Simon remarked, laying Miss Baxter down gently as he went to investigate. Mr. Todd was no engineer, but he could tell right away the thing was meant to fly. It was a bit sticky however, covered in some white, translucent string. Simon grimaced when he touched it, in fact it looked like something had drug this thing here, but as he pinpointed the clutch and yanked at the pull string, he was more than elated to hear the purring of the engine roar to life as the balloons began to inflate.

  Simon stepped back, feeling quite proud of himself as something promptly ran through him.

  “Insufferable dog!” Simon turned, surprised that there was no one as of yet on the roof. Lucifer had his tongue out, wagging amidst his enthusiastic yapping. “Go away!” Simon scolded, attention reverted back to the bicycle. It seemed that everything was controlled via the handrails, and the amount of gas let into the balloons was controlled via the pedals which also spun a propeller at the back. Simon chewed on his lip at the thought of expending so much energy to be whole again. But he’d need to get them off this damnable wizard tower somehow, and he was certain that he’d be caught if he attempted to make his way back to Steam Station.

  “Right-o,” he said, clicking his tongue. With a bit of struggle, Mr. Todd managed to sit the young woman on the handlebars, her legs dangling on either side of the basket in a bit of a mess. The little dog with its robotic leg was still yipping fiercely behind him, jumping up as Simon attempted to climb aboard, nipping at the young gentleman’s trousers.

  “Go away!” he shouted, pushing on the pedals in an attempt to get it going. But the fluffy Bichon Frise hopped in the way, stalling Mr. Todd’s endeavors as it once again tried to hop up.

  “I should toss you off the bloody roof!” Simon hollered, picking up the dog as he tried to balance the wheels of the bike and hold Miss Baxter in place. Nipping at his fingers, the small pooch scuttled away when Simon tried to put him back on the ground, and hopping across the splayed fabric of Miss Baxter’s skirts, he plopped his fluffy dog derrière right into the wicker basket.

  Simon made a bit of a fuss in an attempt to get the dog out, but when he heard shouting from beyond the corridor, h
e hastily abandoned the notion and concentrated on getting the big wheeled Penny Farthing off the ground.

  Huffing, sweat beading on his brow, Mr. Todd wheeled in three circles before the thing began to lift, and was toppling off the side of the roof quite frighteningly as he found his feet beginning to slip through the pedals.

  “Oh dear!” he called, the bicycle tires thumping against the slanted roof. Lucifer with his pink tongue yipped as Simon grasped tighter onto Miss Baxter’s midsection in an attempt to hold her in place.

  “Let’s go, Mr. Todd! Pull yourself together!” He closed his eyes, watching as the end of the tower roof rushed to meet the front wheel of the bicycle. To his eternal delight, his feet found purchase once again as the Penny Farthing took lift and flew off the edge into the moonlight.

  Whether he was more ghost than man now, Simon wasn’t sure, but he could still hear his heart bruising his ribcage regardless. It wasn’t long till whirls of fireballs began hurtling through the sky, tossed towards him by angry mage gangsters, no doubt. But whether they hadn’t any flying spells or it was simply too dark to see, the magic sky was soon quiet and dark, save the slight squeak of the propeller and hum of the engine.

  Lucifer panted in the basket as Simon pumped vigorously against the pedals. Every now and then one would slip through, and the bicycle would dip frighteningly towards the ground, but Simon kept his wits about him, though how he did so was a mystery.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Baxter.” He huffed, looking about the treetops and espying Fallfield far away in the distance. “Once we are safely back I’m sure Mr. Dashing will have a plan to get us on our merry way.” Simon hadn’t thought about the others since the kerfuffle with Heironymous. He sincerely hoped that they were alright.

  “Simon?”

  Mr. Todd looked down, eyes as wide as the almost full moon overhead. “Miss Baxter?” he said incredulously, his splayed fingers balling into a fist at her midsection. “Don’t move too much. We’re currently in the air and you haven’t a safety belt.”