by J. Stone
Refusing to give up, Wynonna felt a final surge of energy flow through her, but she still needed a plan. She thought about everything Lockhart had taught her. How to kill them. Fire. Maybe in addition to killing them, it could hurt them. She saw little other choice.
Ignoring the revenant’s hand on her throat for the moment, she pried off the glove on her free hand with her teeth and reached into her pocket. The lighter that she’d bought from the merchant in Courtland. Pulling it out, she popped open the top and flicked the wheel. It only sputtered. Another flick; another disappointment. Blackness was coming over her. One last flick and a flame erupted from the lighter. She held it up to the revenant’s skin on the arm choking her.
The Gentleman jerked away from the flame immediately, not only letting go of her, but attempting to get off her entirely. She gasped, finally able to breathe, but she still held onto his gun arm, and she wasn’t letting him get away with the weapon. Using the still lit lighter, Wynonna pressed the metal against the skin of this arm, searing an imprint into his already charred-looking skin. He finally dropped the revolver and rolled away.
Taking only a moment to compose herself and collect her breath, Wynonna looked at the gun the revenant had dropped. It was similar in design to Lockhart’s revolver, but this was entirely black like the creature himself. It also exuded a strange dark smoke. All this, however, did not keep Wynonna from taking off her other glove and grabbing it in an effort to wield it against the Gentleman. She realized her mistake immediately. The black metal blighted her palm and fingers with a pain that reminded her of the diseased bullet Lockhart had dug out of her when they met in Delamar. She had to drop it with a pained groan and try something else.
Looking at the Gentleman, she found him to have recovered from the burns of the lighter and smiling at her once more. She couldn’t stand it. Wynonna now charged the revenant as he had previously done to her. She tackled him and knocked him into a bookshelf. They both rebounded a bit and tumbled to the ground. The bookshelf wobbled against the wall for a moment and then fell with them. Wynonna managed to roll out of the way, but the revenant was not so quick. His feet were pinned underneath the heavy wood.
The Gentleman seemed not to notice however. He reached out and grabbed Wynonna by the ankle. She pulled away from him, but his fingernails dug deep. She couldn’t free herself. Spotting an unlit lantern hanging from a hook on the wall, Wynonna reached up and grabbed it. She then turned and smashed the glass over the revenant’s head, spilling the oil inside all over him. The crash was enough to cause the Gentleman to release his grip on her, but he quickly recovered.
Wynonna just needed her lighter. In the chaos of the tackle and the falling bookshelf, she’d lost track of it. Looking around, she didn’t spot the little metal box, but that was fine. Wynonna had one other idea. She crawled away from the revenant and reached for the metal pipe she’d brought. She knew it had cooled since grabbing it in the smithy, but she hoped that with the aid of the lantern’s oil, it would be enough to ignite the revenant in a blaze.
Meanwhile, the Gentleman had freed himself from the bookshelf, and he now crawled after Wynonna. He grabbed her leg once more before she took hold of the pipe, dragging her back enough so that the weapon was beyond her reach. With her other foot, she reared back and kicked him square in the jaw. He didn’t release his grip on her, so she repeated it. And then once more. With the third, she dislodged his jaw, which was enough to cause him to finally let go of her foot, giving her enough room to get the pipe. The metal was still warm on her now ungloved palms, so she hoped it would be enough.
Wasting no time, Wynonna turned around and hit the Gentleman with the pipe but lost her grip on the metal. It didn’t matter. Just as she’d hoped, the rod had retained sufficient heat to ignite the oil. Flame engulfed the entire revenant’s head, and it quickly overtook his entire body. The fire then spread from him to the building itself. Not wishing for the flames to consume her as well, Wynonna got to her feet, turned, and headed for the door. She was certain to grab Lockhart’s revolver along the way, and as she did, she turned to appreciate her victory.
The Gentleman writhed back and forth on the floor, attempting to put out the fire, but the monstrous creature still made no noise to signify the pain he was in. This was the only aspect of his death she didn’t appreciate. All this time, she’d wanted to hurt him, to see him suffer, but he refused to grant her this. Regardless, he would die from the flames, and she smiled, watching the fire engulf him and send dark black smoke into the air.
As the fire spread closer and the smoke grew with it, Wynonna backed up further, but she refused to look away. She couldn’t see much through the smoke and fire, and she lost sight entirely of the Gentleman, but still she looked on. She kept backing up into the street, until she hit someone.
A sudden fear that the revenant had survived the flames, Wynonna swiveled around, aiming the revolver. A hand caught her by the wrist, however.
“You o-okay?” Lockhart asked, looking past her at the blaze.
***
She smiled at him. “Oh, Cory. It’s just you.”
“Where is h-he?” he asked, releasing her wrist.
Wynonna pointed the revolver back toward the fire in the silver mine office.
“You k-k-killed him?”
She nodded, the smile still plastered on her face. “Wasn’t easy, but I got him.”
“How do you f-feel?” Lockhart asked.
“Better,” Wynonna replied, tucking the revolver under her belt. “Better now that he’s dead.”
He shook his head. “N-not what I meant. The t-t-tattoos. You should have the revenant’s p-pain suppression.”
Wynonna held her hands out before her, examining them. She then looked up at Lockhart and shrugged. “I feel the same, I guess.”
He didn’t like that answer. Lockhart reached and grabbed Wynonna’s arm, pinching the fleshy part between his fingers.
“Ow!” she exclaimed. “What was that for?”
“He’s n-not dead. He jumped to a new b-body.”
“But I saw him burn.”
Shaking his head, he told her, “You only burned a g-g-ghoul.”
No sooner than the words had left his mouth, a gunshot fired, and Wynonna jerked forward, clutching her stomach. Lockhart turned around to see the Gentleman standing there with that grinning maw of his and smoke flowing up from the barrel of one of his guns.
Wynonna dropped to her knees, doubled over in pain. She couldn’t deal with the revenant in that moment, so he had to. Lockhart leaned down, grabbed his revolver from her belt, and turned to fire on the revenant. He knew it wouldn’t kill the creature, but he struck it right in the head anyway. He didn’t have time to burn the body correctly, so he decided to take it out and give them an opportunity to recover.
As the Gentleman’s body tipped backward and fell, black ooze pouring out of the bullet hole in its head, the creature changed from revenant back into a standard ghoul. It was no surprise to him, but it proved with certainty that there were still more ghouls around for the Gentleman to hop into. He hadn’t killed them all yet.
“You know, I think you’re right,” Wynonna said to him, still clutching the wound in her gut and giving him a strange grin. “I don’t think I have the pain suppression.”
Lockhart smiled at her. “Don’t w-worry,” he told her. “As long as w-we get the bullet out, you won’t be in any d-d-danger. The tattoos will protect you from the t-toxic effects.”
“Yay,” she muttered with faux enthusiasm. “Then, the pain is just a bonus?”
“Let m-me see,” he told her, putting the revolver down on the ground.
Lockhart then moved Wynonna’s hands from his way and looked at the wound in her gut. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. In fact, given its placement, he thought it might’ve gone clean through her. Shifting around to her back, he saw the same type of wound there.
“You’ll b-be fine,” he told her. “Bullets already o-out.
You just need to deal with the p-pain and the blood.”
Wynonna gritted her teeth and grabbed the revolver again. “Yeah, and I know exactly what’ll make me feel better.”
“We need to go together this time,” Lockhart said, helping his apprentice to her feet.
“Yeah, alright. Fine. What’s the plan?”
Before he could speak, Lockhart’s face drew gaunt, and his eyelids drooped. He collapsed to the ground.
***
Lockhart found himself in familiar territory. The beldams had brought him in for yet another feast. They couldn’t have picked a more inopportune time. Wynonna was alone to deal with the Gentleman, and his own body was vulnerable and only going to slow her down. He couldn’t expect his apprentice to deal both with protecting him and killing the revenant and all his ghouls.
The beldams all crept forward from the darkness to examine him. Alviva licked her lips, Mabilia caressed her handless arm, Estrild grinned and cackled lightly to herself, and Petronila stayed in the back, rubbing her hands together in her typical scheming manner.
The vespari had chosen to stay silent in every encounter with these beldams, either in reality or in the dream world they conjured. No longer.
“S-s-send me b-back!” Lockhart demanded.
“Ooh!” Alviva said, tilting her head to the side. “The vespari finally deigns to speak to us.”
“And with a stutter,” Mabilia added. “How pathetic.”
“He’s stupid!” Estrild shrieked, jumping up and down on the spot and clapping.
“S-send me back!” Lockhart repeated, ignoring their taunts. “I’ll d-die if you d-don’t.”
“We want you to die, little vespari,” Alviva told him.
“But not like th-this,” he replied. “You want my energy, b-but if you don’t send me b-back, a revenant w-will kill me. He’ll t-t-turn me into a ghoul. I’ll b-be useless to you.”
Petronila laughed so loud the other beldams turned back to look at her. “You really do want to go back,” she said. “But, I wonder how much of that story was true.”
“It’s a-all true!”
The slender beldam wagged her finger at him. “Now, now. I know a thing or two about those marks on your chest. I know you can’t become a ghoul. Try again.”
“How d-does a beldam know a-a-anything about vespari marks? Your k-kind rejects all m-magic but your own.”
Again, the other three beldams all looked back at Petronila.
“How do you know about them?” Alviva asked. “How did you know about the Caustic Brand either?”
“None of that matters,” the slender beldam hissed. “I’ve brought us power, and I know he lies! He won’t become a ghoul.”
***
“This is no time for one of your naps, Cory!” Wynonna said, leaning over his body and shaking him. “Don’t do this to me! Not now!”
Her vespari mentor didn’t reply. He didn’t even stir. The beldams had pulled him into a deep sleep, into their dreamscape. She didn’t know much about it, but from what Lockhart had told her, she wanted no part of it. At that moment, she couldn’t worry about what was going on in the beldam’s dream though. There were far greater concerns in the real world. The revenant was still out there, his ghouls had to be around somewhere, her gut was on fire from the gunshot wound, and now Lockhart’s body was limp and lifeless in the middle of it all.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked him.
Wynonna found much the opposite of an answer to that question when a series of gunshots fired not far from their location. The revenant had likely just shot someone else, creating yet more ghouls to use against her.
“Not good,” she muttered. Looking back to Lockhart, Wynonna said, “We gotta get you out of here, Cory.”
Another pair of gunshots.
“Damnit. How am I supposed to even kill--?”
Wynonna paused, trying to think of a way to deal with the revenant. She’d lost her lighter and the hot metal rod in the fire at the silver mine office. There was, however, a still burning fire she could use. The smithy where she’d found the rod in the first place. The blacksmith had left the fires going. Surely, she could use that to her advantage somehow.
That still left what she was supposed to do with Lockhart though. Wynonna might be able to drag him somewhere out of sight, but the wound in her gut would make that a painful challenge. A guttural groan nearby, however, was enough of a prompt for her to try. Looking around for a place to hide him, she spotted a barbershop, red and white pole included, not far off. Deciding it would be a good enough place to drop Lockhart off, she leaned down and grabbed the vespari’s arms, just then noticing the new bandage wrapped around his arm.
Leading him to the Gentleman had put him at risk. Maybe the fortune teller was right. She’d denied the consequences of her choice all while relying on the information Iris had provided her. Would Lockhart really die all because of Wynonna’s quest to satisfy her own vengeance? No, she wouldn’t allow it. Not if she could help do anything about it. Gritting her teeth, Wynonna started to pull him toward the barbershop.
***
“Sh-sh-she’s lying to you,” Lockhart said. “D-deceiving you.”
“What are you talking about, little vespari?” Alviva asked.
“Ignore him,” Petronila told the others. “He tries to drive a wedge between us.”
“Send m-me back!” Lockhart repeated. “If I die, y-you don’t get my energy. No, I w-won’t become a ghoul, but th-th-they’ll still k-kill me, and you get n-nothing more!”
Mabilia lumbered to Petronila and grabbed her tattered clothing. “Is he right? What happens if he dies? You promised us so much more than this!”
The slender beldam wormed her way out of Mabilia’s grip and sneered. “Yes, the spell will be interrupted if he dies to any method other than the mark.”
“Then, we’ll gorge ourselves before the revenant can kill him,” Alviva ordered, pointing at the cages and drawing one toward her.
A wild vargulf, the creature a lycanthrope became when killed incorrectly, was what she happened to summon forward. Alviva ripped the cell door open and charged into the cage. As strong as the vargulf had been when Lockhart killed it, it was nothing compared to the beldam in the dreamscape. She tore it to pieces, shoving chunks into her mouth.
“No!” Petronila said. “We don’t have enough time to consume everything.”
“Speak for yourself,” Alviva replied, spitting blood and guts from her lips as she spoke. “My appetite knows no limit.”
“That isn’t what I mean,” the slender beldam said.
The other two ignored her words and called forth their own meals. Mabilia chose a strigoi, a hulking bat-like vampire, while Estrild consumed a pair of ghouls. With each bite, Lockhart felt weaker. He felt himself slip away from his real body, from his obligations, from Wynonna and everything he still had left to teach her.
“Stop!” Petronila shouted at the others.
Still, they persisted in their ravenous feast.
***
A ghoul grew too close. Wynonna had nothing left to attack them with, and still she didn’t want to waste a bullet on such a lowly creature. Lockhart had a knife, but she didn’t see it. She hadn’t seen it as she dragged him toward the barber. It had to still be on him. Wynonna released Lockhart’s arms, letting his body fall to the ground, harder than she’d intended.
“Whoops,” she muttered, going around beside him.
She patted him down, searching for it, as she wasn’t sure where he kept it. The ghoul continued toward them. This one seemed stronger than some of the others she’d seen. Older, maybe? More mature and farther along in the transformation than the others? She didn’t budge, but it certainly moved faster than the others. She didn’t have time. The ghoul was right behind her. She growled under her breath, grabbed the revolver, and twisted around. She held the barrel nearly to the creature’s forehead and fired, watching the ghoul’s brains splatter out the back of its skull. Due to
the strain, her gut ached as though it was on fire, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
The problem wasn’t resolved. Two more ghouls appeared, drawn by the noise of her gunshot. These were even faster moving than the first had been. How long had the Gentleman been making ghouls? Wynonna slid the revolver back under her belt and continued to search Lockhart’s unmoving body. She switched back and forth between looking at the ghouls and watching what her hands were rifling through. She didn’t want to waste any more bullets. They were already down two, and only four were even loaded at the moment.
She finally had a bit of luck when she found the knife in Lockhart’s boot. She thought it a dangerous place to store a knife, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t much care. Wynonna stood up and approached the two ghouls with the knife. Kicking one in the knee to knock it down and get it out of her way, she had the time to handle the other creature. She slid the knife into its temple, sending it to the ground in a heap. The other ghoul got to its feet just in time for Wynonna to stab it as well. The threat dealt with, Wynonna turned back to Lockhart, so she could get him to safety. Upon turning, however, she found another ghoul crouched over him and about to bite into his neck.
***
Petronila grabbed the fatty arm of Alviva, trying to pry her off the hemorrhaging vargulf. The bulbous beldam swatted her away. Petronila didn’t relent.
“You have to stop!” she told them.
Still, none of them listened, and Lockhart could do nothing either. He wasn’t sure why Petronila had suddenly changed her mind about preserving him. He had been bluffing. He had no idea what would happen if the ghouls killed him instead of the mark. They would still get whatever monster souls they’d already consumed anyway. If he were in their position, he would do as Alviva intended and gorge himself. Why the slender beldam wanted to draw it out, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t make any sense to him, but he didn’t much care, as long as it spared his life and gave him more time to kill the very creatures who threatened him.
