Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2)

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Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2) Page 22

by Bevan, Robert


  “Don’t,” said Tim. “Just let him go. Whatever you do, don’t follow him into an alley or anything. He’ll be extremely dangerous once he’s out of your line of sight. Just follow him until you lose him, and then join Julian and Dave in the inn. The three of you sit tight and don’t make a fucking peep.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Dave.

  “I’m going to sneak off and tell Frank the plan. Then I’ll join you back at the inn.”

  “Why don’t we all go see him together?” asked Dave.

  “Famine saw us come out of this magic shop,” said Tim. “He saw us looking excited. I want to keep an eye on this place until we’re all set to go.”

  Famine was looking fidgety, as if he was considering making the first move after all. That wouldn’t do.

  “Are you ready?” asked Tim.

  “Just a sec,” said Julian. “We have a plan?”

  “I’m going to tell Frank about Professor Goosewaddle, and that Famine spotted us. I’m going to tell him to hold tight, and that if this works, we’ll see about getting our hands on those magic dice, and getting all of them back home. Time is running out. Cooper, are you ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go.”

  “Bwwwaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh!” said Cooper, running like a rabid gorilla toward the rogue. Famine bolted down the street. Tim thought that odd. He would have chosen the alley.

  “Okay,” said Tim as soon as he had lost sight of Famine. “You two, go.”

  Julian and Dave made their way to the inn. Tim ducked down a side street and made his way back to the Whore’s Head.

  Chapter 24

  Julian and Dave sat nervously in their crummy inn room. Dave sat on the rough, wooden floor and leaned back against the wall, chipping off flakes of the pus-yellow paint where his armor made contact. His head kept drooping down, and he repeatedly jerked it back up again, knocking more paint off of the wall with his helmet.

  “Stay awake,” said Julian. “We need to be ready for the worst.”

  “I don’t think I can,” said Dave. “I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m pretty tired, too,” said Julian. “I’m going to set an alarm spell in case we drift off.”

  “If an alarm goes off, won’t that just bring attention to us?”

  “During the incantation, I can specify who won’t trigger it. You, me, Tim, Cooper, Chaz, Butterbean, and Ravenus. Anything else larger than a bug that tries to get in here will set it off.”

  “What if the manager of the inn pops in for something?”

  “Okay, good thinking,” said Julian. “I’ll include the inn staff as well. Anyone else who tries to get in here would certainly be one of the Horsemen.”

  Julian rummaged through his pouches of spell components until he found a piece of chalk. He whispered incantations and drew boundary lines around the door and window. “There, it’s done.”

  Cooper opened the door and walked in. “Hey guys.”

  “See?” said Julian. “It works.”

  Dave’s only response was a loud snore.

  “What works?” asked Cooper.

  “I set an alarm to go off if anyone comes in here while we’re sleeping.”

  “It’s kind of a shitty alarm. I just walked in, and I didn’t hear anything.”

  “You are on the list of people who won’t trip it,” said Julian.

  Cooper lay down on the floor. “Cool. Well I’m gonna get some sleep too.”

  “Okay.”

  Julian sat on the room’s only chair and stared out of the window. The setting sun painted orange clouds on the pink sky. As the sky grew darker, the streetlamps, which he guessed must each contain an object permanently enchanted with a Light spell, began to take over the sun’s job of keeping the city streets lit. After the hustle and bustle of the marketplace died down, Julian scrutinized the few people remaining on the street. None of them looked overly suspicious or threatening… at least not to Julian’s exhausted brain. Before long, he slipped into a trance.

  He snapped out of his trance some point less than four hours later to a cacophony of bells, whistles, and horns. It sounded as though a car alarm and an air raid siren were having a heated argument about politics.

  Tim stood in the doorway with his hands over his ears. Next to him was a very surprised looking pig, more than twice his size.

  “What the fuck?” Tim shouted over the noise. “Make it stop!”

  The pig shat on the floor.

  “Stop!” said Julian. The alarm stopped instantly. The only sounds were the residual ringing in his ears and a person in the next room over banging on the wall.

  “Sorry!” Julian called out at the wall.

  “Asshole!” came a voice from the street outside.

  “What the hell was that?” asked Tim.

  “I set an alarm,” said Julian. “In case anyone tried to get in here.”

  “What the hell did you do that for?” asked Tim. “You knew I’d be coming back.”

  “I didn’t know you were bringing a giant fucking pig with you, did I?”

  “I bought it for Katherine,” said Tim. “She needs to eat.” He walked the pig across the room and picked up the Bag of Holding. The pig grunted. It still looked shaken from the alarm. “Come on, Porky. It’s safe in here.” Tim lifted the lip of the bag and guided the pig inside. As soon as the tip of its curly pink tail passed the lip, the bag collapsed into a seemingly empty heap on the floor.

  “Poor little pig,” said Cooper.

  “The only thing I asked you to do was to stay here and not do anything,” said Tim. “How could you possibly fuck that up?”

  “Sorry,” said Julian. “I just thought –”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” said Tim. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Ho there!” boomed a voice from the hallway. “There’s people tryin’ to sleep in here!” A large bald man stood in the doorway. It took Julian a second, but he soon recognized him as the guy they had rented the room from. He looked a lot less intimidating now that he was wearing what appeared to be a Snuggie. “What’s the meaning of – Hey, why is there shit on me floor?”

  “Um…” said Cooper. “That was me.”

  “Nice save, Coop,” said Tim.

  “You lot get the hell out of me inn before I knocks ye faces in.”

  “We were just leaving,” said Tim.

  They hadn’t been out on the street one minute when a whistle broke the night’s recently restored silence. Julian turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of a shadow ducking quickly away into the darker shadows of an alley three blocks up the street.

  “Shit,” said Tim. “We’ve been made.”

  “What should we do?” asked Dave.

  “There’s a light on at Professor Goosewaddle’s shop,” said Julian. “We could ask him if we could crash there until morning.”

  “We need this guy on our side,” said Tim. “We’re not going to make a very good impression barging in there in the middle of the night.”

  “This way!” called a nasally voice from down the street. “They’re over here.”

  “If anyone has any better ideas,” said Dave, “now is the time to speak.”

  “Fuck,” said Tim. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Julian was the first to arrive at the door. He jiggled the handle, but the door was locked. He knocked rapidly on the door while the rest of the party caught up.

  “Keep yer britches on,” said a sleepy voice on the other side of the door. “I’m coming.”

  When the door finally creaked open, the recorded message began. “Welcome to Professor Goosewaddle’s Potions and –”

  The professor clapped his hands and the message stopped. “Oh, it’s you. Do you lads have any idea what time it is?”

  “Um… no,” said Cooper.

  “We’re sorry, professor,” said Julian. “We saw the light on and thought you were awake.”

  “Some jackass down the street set off an Alarm spell,�
�� said the professor. “Don’t suppose I’ll be getting any more sleep tonight. Come on in.”

  The party crowded inside as quickly as they could without actually stampeding over the little gnome. Cooper slammed the door shut behind them.

  “Something troubling you lads?” asked the professor.

  There was no point in lying. Julian came clean. “There’s a group of guys out there trying to murder us.”

  “Well,” said Professor Goosewaddle. “Thank you so much for bringing them to my shop.” He looked annoyed, which Julian assessed was about the best they could have hoped for. Angry would have been bad, and afraid would have been catastrophic.

  “Calm yourselves, gentlemen. No one enters Professor Goosewaddle’s Potions and Scrolls Emporium against the will of Professor Goosewaddle.” The professor sprinkled a line of sparkly purple powder on the floor in front of the doorway and muttered to himself. When he was finished muttering, the powder turned into a bright pink liquid and crept up through the the cracks between the door and the frame, until the whole thing was sealed.

  The handle wiggled a little, but the door didn’t budge.

  “Come out, you cowards!” It was Eric, the guy who called himself Pestilence. “We know you’re in there!”

  “Fuck off, Eric,” said Tim.

  “How long do you think you can hide in there?” said Eric, continuing to pound on the door. “If you send out the half-orc, we’ll call it even.”

  Cooper shook his head. “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it?”

  “Come on, half-orc,” Eric called out with taunting mirth in his voice. “If you suck my cock, I might just let you live.” His friends snickered.

  “No thanks,” said Cooper. “Your mom’s cock tasted like ham. It was unsettling. Put me right off cocks for good.”

  “Julian,” said Tim. “Do you see any way we can resolve this diplomatically?”

  “They want to murder us,” said Julian. “And Cooper just told a dude his mom’s cock tastes like ham. I think we’re beyond my skill level in Diplomacy.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Tim. He took the Bag of Holding from Cooper and scurried up the little spiral staircase.

  Julian looked though the peephole of the door. Eric was standing right there, looking furious. Two other figures stood behind him. One wore loose green robes, suitable for the gestures a wizard or sorcerer would have to make while casting spells. That must be War. The other was clad in a simple black cloak. The hood cast a shadow over his face. Death, no doubt. He was even carrying a scythe. A walking cliché. Julian supposed he ought to be scared, but he couldn’t help seeing these guys as trick-or-treaters.

  “All the puke!” Tim shouted from upstairs. A torrent of vomit rained down on Eric’s head. War and Death stepped back and looked up. They were spared all but a few specks that splashed on their clothes.

  Eric stopped beating on the door. He brushed a glob of it off of his shoulder and shook a fist up in the air. “Why you little –”

  “Pig!” shouted Tim. A second later, Eric covered his face with his forearms as an emaciated dead pig landed on him. Katherine had really gone to town on it. Julian didn’t think there could be a drop of blood left in it.

  Eric lay in a pool of vomit under the mutilated corpse of a giant pig. As soon as the shock and horror of that wore off, he pushed the pig off of him and scrambled backward. War and Death helped him to his feet.

  War began muttering to himself, and his hands burst into flames. He brought his hands together, and the flames coalesced into a sphere of fire.

  “Tim!” cried Julian. “Watch out!” But it was too late. Julian shielded his eyes from the fiery white explosion which engulfed his tiny field of vision.

  “Shit!” said Julian. “They Fireballed Tim!”

  Cooper ran to the stairwell, but Tim was already on his way down. Nothing was visibly wrong with him, except that he looked a little shaken and his right hand was covered in vomit.

  “Do any of you guys have a towel?” asked Tim.

  “Dammit, Scott!” came Eric’s voice from outside.

  “Call me War,” said War.

  “Dammit, War!”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I guess the place is protected against magic.”

  Julian looked through the peephole. Eric had removed his helmet. His face was covered in soot. War’s robes were singed at the edges, and Death lay on the ground with his cloak still on fire.

  War and Pestilence were doing their best to pat out the flames. Famine was still conspicuously absent.

  “They look really pissed off,” said Julian.

  “Well,” said Cooper. “Maybe it’s about time they were pissed on.” He started up the stairs.

  “Wait, Cooper!” said Julian. “Don’t!”

  By the time Julian made it up the stairs, Cooper was already standing at the window with his dick out.

  “Hey fuckers!” Cooper called down. “Allow me to assist you.” And so the stream started. It was a strong, dark yellow stream. It steamed in the cool night air.

  “Yeau—” Eric started to protest, and Julian had no doubt he was cut off by a jet of half-orc piss to the face.

  “Get him!” shouted Eric, presumably having moved out of the line of fire.

  Julian wondered who he was talking to, but his curiosity was satisfied an instant later when a pale skeletal face peeked up over the window sill.

  “Ha!” cried Famine, shoving a curved dagger into Cooper’s belly.

  “Ow!” said Cooper, quickly adjusting the position of his dick.

  Maybe Famine had believed the element of surprise was going to allow him to wound Cooper enough such that he would be unable to piss in his face. Maybe he thought Cooper would retreat, or try to fight him, instead of pissing in his face. Maybe he had just mentally braced himself for getting a face full of piss, and thought he could take it… maybe get a few more stabs in. Whatever his logic, it failed him. His gloved hand lost its grip on the stone wall. His gurgling scream was interrupted by his chin hitting the window sill, and he fell out of sight onto the street below.

  Cooper turned around and pulled the blade out of his belly. He barely winced. He held it up to show Julian. “Free knife.”

  Julian ran to the window. Eric was walking away, carrying Death in his arms. War supported Famine, who had apparently sustained an injury to his ankle.

  Eric turned around and looked up at Julian. “Wish your friend good luck for me,” he said. He flashed an evil grin, turned back around, and continued to retreat.

  Julian turned to Cooper. “He said ‘Good luck’.”

  “That’s awfully sporting of him,” said Cooper.

  “Come on,” said Julian. “Let’s get out of here.”

  When he got down the stairs, Tim was already in business negotiations with Professor Goosewaddle, each of them standing on a stack of boxes on either side of the front counter.

  Tim held the Bag of Holding open and put his hand inside. “All the gold,” he said. An impressive pile of gold spilled out, maybe close to a thousand coins in all.

  “Holy balls!” said Julian.

  “That’s it?” said the professor. He was clearly not as impressed with the pile as Julian was.

  “That’s all we’ve got,” said Tim. “That’s a shitload of gold.”

  “Magic don’t come cheap, lad,” said the professor. “And what you asked for was beyond the typical spellcasting I’m accustomed to. This required imagination, special equipment.” He shook his head. “This will be adequate for one of you. That’s all.” He folded his little arms in a gesture of finality.

  “Come on, man!” said Tim. “It’s no good just sending one of us. We all need to go home.”

  “I’ll send two more for that Bag of Holding you’ve got there.”

  Tim clutched the bag and held it to his chest. “No way,” he said. “I’ve got something valuable in here.”

  “Well then,” Professor Goosewa
ddle said, smiling. “Now maybe you’ve got something to negotiate with.”

  “It’s valuable to me,” said Tim. “It wouldn’t be valuable to you.”

  “I think I’ve been more than reasonable in these negotiations,” said the professor. His voice was showing signs of impatience. “My offer stands. For the gold you’ve provided here, I’ll Teleport one of you. That’s all.”

  “That’s enough,” said Julian.

  “What?” said Dave.

  “Think about it,” said Julian. “Tim goes back, figures out how to work the magic dice, and brings back the rest of us.”

  “What if it’s not as easy as all that to figure out?” asked Dave.

  Julian had had just about enough of Dave second-guessing him. “If you’ve got any better ideas –”

  “Fuck,” said Dave. “I’m not going through this again. Fine. Good luck, Tim.”

  “Are you sure I should be the one to go?” asked Tim.

  “You’re the smartest one here,” said Cooper. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you. Anyway, it’s your restaurant.”

  “But what if Dave’s right?” asked Tim. “What if I can’t figure it out? Hell, what if the dice aren’t even there? We don’t know how much time has passed. They could be in some police evidence locker, and I could have a warrant out for my arrest for all we know.”

  “If that’s the case,” said Julian, “then we’re all fucked anyway. “Make a deal. Say you’ll sign a confession after they bring you the dice. If you’re able to make the rest of us materialize inside the interrogation room, you’ll be well on your way to mounting a plausible defense.”

  “That’s pretty clever,” admitted Dave.

  “I watch a lot of Law and Order.”

  “Me too. I don’t seem to remember that episode.”

  Tim smiled and shook his head. “I’ll do this only if everyone is on board.”

  “I’m in,” said Cooper.

  Julian just nodded.

  “Julian’s right,” said Dave. “It’s the best plan we’ve got. I’m in.”

  Tim let out a long, nervous breath. “I guess that’s that then.”

  “Then please follow me,” said Professor Goosewaddle. He led Tim into the room behind the counter.

 

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